Six Years Later
by lovely ravenclaw
Summary: After the Final Battle, Ron proposes to Hermione, but she says no and cuts herself off from the Weasley family. Six years later she's regretting her decision when she runs into a very familiar redhead, although not the one you might be expecting! NOW COM
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything I love. Hehe.

A/N: I don't know anyone who _hasn't_ read HBP yet, but just in case, this contains some spoilers.

**Chapter 1: A Little Bit Lost**

Hermione sighed as she picked at the salad sitting in front of her.

"What are you thinking about?" Grace, Hermione's coworker, asked from across the table.

"What? Oh nothing," Hermione said, blushing as she realized she'd been caught daydreaming. Grace raised her eyebrows suspiciously as if to say, _your feeble attempts at a lie are not going to work here Miss Granger._ Hermione muttered quickly, "You really wouldn't want to know."

"Try me," Grace spit back, putting down her fork and leaning forward across the table, listening attentively. Hermione shook her head, frustrated. She just _couldn't_ tell Grace what she'd been thinking about when she'd seen the little red headed girl skip across the restaurant and into her father's arms with a cry of "Daddy!" The girl's mother followed and greeted her husband with a kiss on the cheek. They were the picture of domestic perfection, but what was more, they were so _red-headed_. Hermione shook her head again to clear that last thought from her mind.

"Is this about Ron again?" Grace asked matter-of-factly. Hermione's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Don't act so shocked, it's _always_ about Ron, it's getting quite easy to guess what's the matter with you these days." Hermione blushed again, embarrassed at how transparent she'd become. She looked back to the family as they settled down to their lunch.

"If I would have said yes "six" years ago, that's where I'd be right now, that's what I'd have. And I just can't help but think how _nice_ it looks," Hermione said openly to her coworker and closest friend. Grace looked at the table Hermione had been staring at.

"Nice? Yes maybe it's _nice_. But really Hermione, married at eighteen straight out of Hogwarts with no experience in the real world? You and I both know it wasn't right for you. You needed to test your wings a little bit, meet other men, have torrid love affairs," Grace said dramatically. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes that's exactly what I've been doing for the last six years, isn't it?"

"Wellll, I could help out with that," Grace said. Hermione knew exactly what she had in mind.

"No no no, not another one of your little parties. You invite all these people there under the guise of having a party but really its just an excuse to introduce me to some poor pathetic guy you've wrangled into meeting me," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"Well, if you would just go out on blind dates with the guys I find for you, I wouldn't have to stoop to such levels," Grace said coolly, sipping on her lemonade. Hermione had to admit that she _did _have a point.

"Who is it this time?" She asked with a sigh. Grace grinned devilishly.

"Well you know how Max is in marketing?" Grace began. Hermione nodded, yes, she knew all about Max, Grace's fiancée. "Well he's working on a project with the owners of this shop, I don't know where exactly, out in the country or something, it's not here in London anyways and—"

"Oh no, my dear, this will never work. You know I could never marry a plain old country bumpkin. Not a city girl like me," Hermione joked in an airy, stuck up voice. Despite having lived in London for the last six years working for the Daily Prophet, Hermione still remained removed from the city life and Grace never missed an opportunity to tease Hermione for her pastoral upbringing.

"Oh hush," Grace scolded, "anyways, Max is working with these two men, brothers actually, who own this little shop. I can't remember what kind of shop, though I know Max told me once. Anyways, it's not that important, the point is they are apparently single and fun and intelligent and I think you should date them."

"Them?" Hermione asked with a slight smirk.

"I mean him!" Grace corrected herself. "Only one of them can actually make it to the party, you see. But if he doesn't work out, maybe the other will!" She added hopefully. Hermione rolled her eyes at her over-enthusiastic friend.

"And does he have a name?"

"Well I'm sure he does, though it sort of alludes me at the moment. There are two of them you know. I can't actually remember either one of their names, but I'll find out from Max before I introduce you, of course." Grace said absentmindedly. Hermione found it a wonder that Grace could ever write anything remotely accurate for the paper considering her forgetfulness.

"Well when is it?" She asked, resigning herself to another one of Grace's matchmaking events.

"Saturday night at 9:00. Oh Hermione I am so excited! You won't regret this, I promise! I really have a good feeling about this one, granted I've never met him…" As Grace babbled on, Hermione gradually tuned her out, lost in her own thoughts.

It had been six years. Six years! The thought was so strange to her, even now. At the very emotional end of Ron and Hermione's 6th year at Hogwarts, the two had finally started dating. It was never that "official," but was the most natural thing as they turned to each other in mourning. Throughout the next year they had been there for each other during the worst events of their lives: tracking down the remaining Horcruxes, defeating Voldemort, and almost losing Harry in the process. In the end, the three best friends came home from the Final Battle exhausted and clinging to one another. It was then that Ron had pulled the box from his robes and told her in a shaky voice,

"Hermione, I promised myself that if we made it home, that I'd never risk losing you again. Will you marry me?" Hermione had sat there bewildered, mouth hanging open, shooting an accusatory glance at Harry as if to say _why didn't you warn me_. He only shrugged his shoulders and looked away, embarrassed. Then Hermione did the hardest thing she had ever done, harder than fighting trolls, or dementors, or Voldemort himself. She told him no. With a voice devoid of all emotion, she explained to Ron that she was not ready to be married, that she needed time to be on her own. When she got out her explanation she left Ron looking crushed in the living room, collected her belongings upstairs, and apparated back to her parents' house. She had not been back to the Burrow since, not even for the funeral of Charlie, who had died in the Final Battle. Instead, she vowed to move on with her life, starting anew in London with a job at the Daily Prophet.

For many years, Hermione had remained convinced that her decision was for the best. It was only recently that Hermione began to regret her decision. As her coworkers and friends in London began to marry their school sweethearts, Hermione was struck with how _alone _she was. Rather than meeting a ton of wonderful people at school who she could connect with after graduation, Hermione had spent her days at Hogwarts pining after Ron and traipsing after Harry. She always thought Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley clan, would be enough. Sure she had made some new friends along with many casual acquaintances and contacts at the paper, but the Weasleys and Harry had been her _family_. Without them, Hermione was a little bit lost.

A/N: Please please please read and review! All comments are welcome, especially constructive criticism!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. sigh.

**Chapter 2: Hermione's Mystery Man**

Saturday morning Hermione wandered around her flat. She watered the plants growing in pots on her windowsill and tidied the magazines on her coffee table. She re-color-coded the robes in her closet and labeled some files of Prophet articles she'd written recently. Not able to find anything else to fill her time, she sat idly on the couch and looked about. There was nothing left to clean, for it was immaculate. There was no laundry to do, no groceries to buy, and no errands to run. In short, Hermione Granger was quite bored. She sighed. Saturdays were her least favorite day of the week because she didn't have any work to do. At least tonight she had a party at Grace's to go to.

In the beginning Hermione had gotten nervous about these Saturday night matchmaking parties. She had actually believed Grace would somehow manage to lure the _perfect man_ to one of the parties and she would fall madly in love with him right then and there. This idealistic way of thinking lasted approximately five minutes into her first party experience. After that, Hermione begrudgingly went to the parties, putting less and less effort into her appearance. Tonight she would be wearing a set of rather unspectacular blue dress robes with silver trim. They were nice, but nothing too special, for Hermione secretly feared that if she got too excited about the party, she would be jinxed.

Hermione had to admit Grace's description of the mystery man (whose name Grace kept forgetting) sounded somewhat appealing. From what Grace had told her, the man seemed somewhat accomplished, having started his own business. He also seemed like a family man, considering he was working closely with his own brother. And, Grace swore that Max came home every night laughing about the mystery man's jokes during their meetings. All of this sounded pretty promising to Hermione considering the other dolts Grace had set her up with. One had been an Unspeakable with the Ministry of Magic. He was covered in strange scars, had shifty eyes under monstrously huge eyebrows, and spoke in such a thick Russian accent that Hermione could not understand a word he said. Another had been a painfully shy schoolteacher for young wizards and witches with thick glasses and an argyle sweater. Though Hermione felt hopeful that he would be able to converse with her on an intellectual level, he was _too _timid and Hermione was forced to wrack her brain the whole night trying to come up with questions that could not be answered with a yes, no, or shoulder shrug. Another one of Grace's potential husbands for Hermione had been a very successful doctor. He was handsome and charming, but when he introduced his equally beautiful and charming wife, Hermione knew Grace had somehow misunderstood this man's availability. After these disasters, and countless others, Hermione still managed to scrounge up a tiny glimmer of hope.

As 8:30 rolled around, Hermione decided it was about time to start getting ready. Her routine was quite simple; she showered, brushed her teeth and flossed (she wasn't the daughter of two dentists for nothing!), and slipped into her blue dress robes. Then she performed a couple of spells on her hair to calm it down and keep it in place. Next she smeared some raspberry lip gloss over her lips and scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. _Well, it could be worse, _she reasoned with herself. And with a soft _crack!_ she apparated over to Grace and Max's apartment.

When she arrived in the front hall she was greeted by a very loud, squealing Grace who hugged her tightly.

"I have something weird to tell you," she whispered into Hermione's ear. Hermione's eyes widened.

"What's going on?" She asked. Grace looked at her nervously.

"This guy, the one I thought you'd like, he's got red hair Mione," it sounded so simple but the impact was huge on Hermione.

"Noooo, red hair? I can't do this Grace. Everytime I try to talk to him I'll just think about Ron, or some other Weasley at least. Does he know you were trying to set us up?" Hermione said, all of a sudden having second thoughts about the whole situation.

"No, no, he has no idea. I didn't want him to think I was like, you know, really _weird_ or something, inviting him here and pouncing on him with you. I'm sorry Mione, I really had no idea."

"Oh it's ok Grace. It's not your fault at all," Hermione said sighing. She'd gotten her hopes up again. "I think I'm going to head home, all of a sudden I don't feel so good." Grace's face fell, but she nodded supportively.

"Of course honey. I really thought tonight…I'm sorry Hermione" Grace said enveloping Hermione in another hug. Suddenly Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hermione, I'd like to introduce you to someone," Max said. Hermione whirled around and found herself facing a very surprised George Weasley.

A/N: Hi y'all I know this is sort of short, and not too unexpected either, but I needed to get their meeting out of the way. I hope you liked it! Please please read and review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.

**Chapter 3: Catching Up**

"George" It was more of a croak than a word really, but she was barely aware of having said it.

"Hermione?" Hearing her name escape from his lips made her heart pound wildly. There was no avoiding this now. It really was George Weasley standing there in front of her. Grace looked at Hermione and then back to the tall, good-looking red head. They obviously knew each other and Grace was beginning to think she knew how.

"Are you? I mean, is Ron?" Grace said, trying to make some sort of sense of the situation. Hermione looked at her and nodded weakly. Grace could not believe this was happening. What was Ron's brother doing _here_? Grace glared angrily at Max, somehow this had all become his fault. She grabbed her fiancée by the elbow and shoved him roughly into the living room where the rest of their guests were mingling.

"H-how are you?" Hermione broke the silence, trying to create some semblance of normalcy between the two. He looked at her with sadness in his eyes.

"Oh Hermione," he signed, running a hand through his dark red hair. She hung her head in shame, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for what had transpired six years ago.

"I'm so sorry George, I have to go," she said, eyes remaining glued to the floor as she tried to sidle past him to the door, she was in no mood for apparating. Without any warning, George swept her up into a bone-crushing hug, a Weasley trademark.

"Thank God you're ok," he whispered into her hair. She looked up in surprise. It never occurred to her that they would be _worried _about her. She assumed they'd just forgotten about her, written her off because of her rejection of Ron. Suddenly Hermione felt very weak in the knees, everything about the last six years seemed to just melt into thin air, and that made her very scared.

"Why don't we go somewhere? We can get some coffee or something and just talk," George suggested. Hermione nodded, she looked towards the living room where Grace was playing hostess. She considered going to tell Grace that she was leaving but decided that she would figure it out on her own. "Are you up to apparating?" George asked sounding concerned.

"I'd actually rather walk if that's alright with you. I think I could use the fresh air," Hermione said nervously. George smiled down at her and guided her through the front door and out into the cool night air.

"I know a little coffee shop not far from here, ok?" Hermione nodded in response. They walked in silence for a bit. She didn't quite know what to say. Suddenly she blurted out,

"You look different." It was such a dumb thing to say, but she really couldn't help it. Luckily it was already quite dark so he couldn't see her blushing furiously. He looked at her curiously before answering.

"Well you could tell it was me and not Fred, I can't have changed too much then. Or was that just a lucky guess?" He said lightly, with a hint of amusement in his voice. She knew what he was doing, trying to make her smile, laugh, anything to lighten the mood. And it was working.

"Harry wasn't the only one with a tell-tale scar," she said, smiling despite the tightening in her chest at mentioning Harry.

"I never knew that you knew about that!" George said with astonishment as he unconsciously ran a finger down his jaw line below his ear where his identifying scar was.

"Well I don't know the whole story, but I know it's the only way to tell you two apart," Hermione said.

"Well, at least the only way that doesn't involve something completely indecent," George joked. Hermione laughed in spite of herself. As they came into the light of the coffee house, Hermione looked up at George almost in wonder, as if she could not believe he was really there with her, in the middle of London. They took a seat at one of the booths and looked over the menu. After ordering coffees and slices of cherry pie, George and Hermione looked at each other expectantly, not really knowing what to say.

"So do you want to hear the whole story?" George broke the silence. Hermione looked up with a confused expression in her eyes. "Of the scar?" He clarified. She breathed a sigh of relief. She much preferred talking about old childhood scars to anything real and pertinent to their present situation. Hermione nodded eagerly.

"Well I remember it as if it was yesterday," George began dramatically, leaning back in his chair and staring off into space dreamily. Hermione chuckled a little. "It was, if you can believe it, the very first prank Fred and I ever played. Six years old we were. Precious little monsters, really. The victim was Percy, for obvious reasons, and the weapon of choice was a dung bomb. Ahh, my very first dung bomb. The prank was going swimmingly until the bomb exploded. Being amateurs we failed to realize the repercussions of being in the proximity when the bomb went off. All of a sudden the bomb, placed just a tad bit too close to the window, exploded, taking the window out with it, and shrapnel rained down upon us, well me mostly. Next thing I know, I'm nearly on my death bed from loss of blood," as the story continued, George took on a more and more serious tone of voice, like he was a war veteran reliving his battle days. Hermione just rolled her eyes as his exaggerations grew. "Luckily my mum ran up and patched me up right quick. But if it hadn't been some quick thinking on her part, I probably wouldn't be sitting here across from you right now Hermione." He concluded the story somberly. She laughed at him, amazed at herself for feeling so calm in the present situation. But then again, she was with a Weasley twin, this was their expertise.

Hermione sighed. Now that he'd finished his story, she knew it was her turn to say something. He watched as her eyes clouded over. He knew how hard this probably was on her. He reached out across the formica tabletop and patted her hand.

"It's alright, we don't have to talk about…well anything, if you don't want to," he said genuinely. Her eyes filled with tears and gratitude.

"No it's alright. There's no use in putting it off. The more out in the open, the better. Go ahead and ask away," she said with a brave smile.

"Erm, well, what are you doing these days?" Hermione was grateful that he'd asked such a simple question.

"I write for the Daily Prophet now. I've been there for six years, though I started as a lowly copy editor. It was only about two years ago that I started really writing articles," Hermione said, sipping her coffee. George nodded along.

"Wait! We get the Prophet! We've never seen your name in it," he exclaimed. Hermione blushed.

"I write under a pseudonym," she explained. "I mostly write political commentary. Who's running for what, who's backing whom, the basics. Some find it a little dull, but it's exciting for me. You know Grace, Max's fiancée? She's our gossip columnist."

"Ah, fitting," George said with a smile. Hermione nodded with a small smile.

"So you're working with Max's marketing firm? I take it the joke shop is doing well then?"

"Oh Hermione it's mind-boggling. You should come down and see it sometime. You wouldn't even believe your eyes. Who would have imagined Fred and I running the most successful joke shop since Zonko himself! We've gotten so popular that we now have 7 stores around England, including the primary one in Diagon Alley, a special shop for Hogwarts students in Hogsmeade, and one here in London." Hermione's eyes widened at this last bit.

"One in London? Are you here often then?" Hermione asked, trying not to look _too_ hopeful.

"Fred and I keep an apartment here. We do a lot of our major networking and corporate work from London. Actually we're trying to push through a deal right now with the American market. That's what Max has been helping us with," George explained, obviously quite proud of the businessman he'd become.

"How is Fred?" She asked, and after a pause she added, "and the others?" A lump rose to her throat. George looked at her tenderly, realizing how painful it must have been for her to ask.

"He's good, real good. We're happy running the joke shop. Leaving Hogwarts to start it was probably the best decision we ever made. The rest…they're good too. It was rough for a while at home, what with Charlie gone, and then you. Mum just about had a nervous breakdown. She's doing all right though. She's a strong woman. And now that she's a grandmum, she couldn't be happier." Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Percy and Penelope," he answered her unasked questioned. Hermione smiled knowingly. "You remember her don't you? Well they've got 2 children now. Beautiful little dears, but lacking all spunk you know? They're too much Percy and not enough Fred and George," he said with a grin. Hermione smiled as her eyes welled up with tears again. She had not even known they'd been married. "Bill and Fleur have been trying to have a child. What with Bill's _condition_, no one's quite sure if it's safe to have a child, or whether it'd even be possible. It's heartbreaking really, but they've been working closely with the St. Mungo's staff, so we hope they'll figure out a way." George looked up at Hermione, wondering if he should go on. He knew he was getting to the family members most important to Hermione. She looked at him seriously, and he knew he ought to go on. "Ginny and Harry act like a married couple already, though they're not even engaged. Reckon it will be any time now though. They've been dating for so long." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't missed _that_ wedding.

"And Ron?" She asked quietly, "is he? I mean, has he?"

"Has he moved on, you mean?" He questioned her. "Well he's not still sitting around at home crying over you, if that's what you're wondering." He realized that he sounded a little harsh, but knew this was important; he had to let her know everything was all right. "He's dated a little, here and there. But nothing really serious, you know?" She nodded, expecting to feel relief again, but her feelings were tangled up at the moment. She stared into her empty coffee cup awkwardly. Suddenly George grabbed her hands.

"Hermione, please, come home with me," he begged of her. Hermione's shocked eyes met George's pleading ones as he added, "to the Burrow." Hermione looked away in embarrassment at what she had thought he'd meant at first. When she was in control of her emotions once more, she looked back into his eyes.

"The Burrow isn't my home anymore George." With that, Hermione slipped her hands out from under George's, dropped a galleon on the table, and left the coffee shop in a state of shock.

A/N: Ok, so this chapter is quite a bit longer than the others, but I had sooo much to say! Did you enjoy it? Please let me know in a review! Oh! And thank you so much to my first reviewer **amrawo**!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything but the plot.

**Chapter 4: Second Chance**

George watched helplessly as Hermione dashed out of the little shop. For a brief moment he thought it best to just let her go, but it suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea where she lived and he might not see her again if he just let her run off.

"Hermione, Hermione!" George shouted as he jogged outside, looking around in the dark night. He prayed that she had not apparated home. He heard a quiet little "sniff sniff" coming from the ground and saw her sitting on the curb outside the coffee shop. He sat down next to her and muttered "Lumos" to give them a little more light. He could see tears running down her cheeks.

"What are you doing down here Hermione?" He asked gently.

"Leave me alone, George, I don't want to talk to you," she said, crossing her arms stubbornly. She looked like a three year old throwing a temper tantrum.George scowled and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

"If you really didn't want to talk to me you would have apparated home by now," he snapped back at her. She glared up at him in the dim light provided by his wand and the neon glow of the coffee shop.

"Let go of me."

"No," he said forcefully.

"If you don't let go right now I'm going to apparate home anyways, and believe me, it wouldn't be the first time I _accidentally_ left behind some important appendages. You don't really _need _your legs, do you?" She hissed. George just gripped her shoulders harder.

"Don't play these games with me Hermione. You're not the bossy fifteen-year-old prefect and I'm not the seventeen-year-old troublemaker you can push around. We're not at Hogwarts anymore. We're adults Hermione, its about time you realized that," he said severely. Her chin dropped a little and he let go of her shoulders, trusting that she wouldn't apparate away from him.

"You know I couldn't ever push you two around anyways," she whispered quietly. He managed half a smile, for it was true.

"You don't have to go to the Burrow Hermione. You never have to go back there if you don't want to," he said softly. Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. "I just don't want you to disappear again. We've been given a second chance you know? I thought it was a second chance for you to be part of our family again, but if that's not what you want, that's fine. But I'd really like a second chance at a friendship with you."

"We weren't even friends to begin with George," Hermione pointed out through her tears.

"Hermione I always considered you a friend," George said solemnly. Hermione looked into his eyes and saw that he was not joking. She bit her lip but nodded slightly.

"All right. We can try being friends, but please don't tell anyone about this. Not yet at least. Not even Fred."

"All right, if that's what you want. Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked. She thought about it briefly.

"You could come over for some lunch, at my place? Around noon?" She suggested.

"That sounds perfect, could you write down your address for me?" She tapped his hand with her wand and muttered "Inscribio." Her address appeared, scrawled across his hand in black ink. He smiled at her ingenuity. "Do you want me to walk you home?" He asked kindly. She shook her head though.

"I think I'll just apparate. I'll see you tomorrow though George. Good night." And with a little _crack!_ she was gone.

A moment later, Georgeapparated into the London apartment he shared with his brother, Fred. Frankly, George was a little surprised Fred was home already, seeing as how he had been on a date earlier in the night.

"Hey George, how was the party? Any pretty girls there?" Fred asked from the couch as he flipped through stations on the Muggle TV. It took George a moment to answer, seeing as how he'd forgotten all about the party by then.

"Erm, well, no, there weren't any pretty girls there. Sort of a disappointment really, I didn't stay too long," George said, trying to avoid downright lying to his brother. "How was your date? You're back earlier than I expected."

"Pretty little thing but she was dull as dishwater. It was like sitting through a History of Magic class with Binns again. I took her home as quickly as I could, to be honest with you." Fred answered, a hint of disappointment in his voice. George nodded sympathetically as he collapsed on the couch next to his brother. Neither had found any luck in the romance department, despite their good looks and charming personalities.

"What's this garbage you're watching?" George said reaching for the remote control lying in between him and his brother on the couch. Suddenly Fred's hand grabbed his own.

"What's this?" Fred asked, staring accusingly at his brother's hand. Upon realizing what Fred was talking about, George blushed and trying to wrestle his hand away. Fred held on, though, with a death grip.

"It's nothing," George mumbled.

"It's not nothing. It's some girl's address!" Fred exclaimed. George just muttered nonsense in response, knowing he'd been caught. "Smart little witch isn't she?" Fred continued.

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"This charm. It's a tricky bit of magic. I'm assuming it comes off when you safely reach your destination?" Fred said, staring pointedly at his brother.

"Well, I suppose so, she didn't really say," George said.

"Aha, so it is a girl!" Fred shouted, proud of his great powers of deduction. George rolled his eyes. "Too bad she's ugly," Fred added as an afterthought.

"Hey! She's not ugly!" George said.

"Well you said there weren't any pretty girls at the party…so I just assumed…" Fred reasoned. George just glared at him.

"Well I was wrong, ok? There was a pretty girl at the party, and we're going to meet for lunch tomorrow," George gloated, forgetting that it was Hermione he was talking about, not just some date.

"What's her name?" Fred asked shrewdly, half suspecting that his brother was making her up.

"I'm not telling you," George shot back, knowing full well Fred's ability of ruining any and all potential relationships George started. All of a sudden George blushed a deep crimson at his own thoughts. He didn't have to keep the girl from Fred because it was a new _relationship_, it was just that Hermione had asked him not to tell. The blushing did not escape Fred's careful observation. He chuckled a little.

"You've got it bad, don't you little brother?" Fred asked. George blushed even deeper at the mere thought of him and Hermione.

"Fred I'm older than you by five minutes, don't call me little brother," George retorted.

"Oh George, you know my maturity level is leagues above yours. That's what I was referring to," Fred answered as if it was obvious. George shook his head a little bit and faked a yawn.

"I'm going to bed, I've got a big day tomorrow what with this _date _and all. You know, with the smart and interesting witch? The one who can carry on a conversation and isn't dull at all?" George gloated. He ducked the pillow Fred threw at him and headed to his room to mull over the happenings of the night.

A/N: Hello my lovely readers. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please continue reading and reviewing, it makes me soooo happy to see reviews! Thanks to all who have reviewed so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.

**Chapter 5: Exploding Daisies**

When George woke up the next morning, he was still pondering Hermione. He could not believe that they had both been living in the same city for years now and had never bumped into each other before. As he showered and got dressed he wondered what his mother would say if she knew he was meeting Hermione for lunch. Mrs. Weasley had been distraught when Hermione had left. It was not about the proposal either, though everyone did expect Hermione and Ron to end up together. Instead, Molly Weasley felt like she was losing one of her own children. It was like the situation with Percy all over again, except she knew where Percy was the whole time. George sighed as he pulled on some khaki pants and a light blue polo shirt, realizing that he could not hide Hermione forever. Eventually he would have to convince her to come home with him.

At 12 o'clock sharp Hermione heard a knock at her front door. She had been pacing around her kitchen, wringing her hands, for the last half an hour. She took a deep breath before swinging the door open. There stood George, grinning like a fool with a bouquet of daisies in his hands.

"I brought these for you," he said bashfully. Hermione looked at the daisies suspiciously as he held them out for her to take.

"Are they going to explode?" She asked cautiously. He looked taken aback.

"Um, no."

"Turn in to creatures of any sort?"  
"No."

"Strangle me in my sleep?"

"No!" He cried indignantly, though he had a smile on his face.

"Ok, I guess I'll take them," Hermione said with a smile as she accepted the flowers. "I'll just put them in some water. Why don't you sit down in here while I bring out some tea and sandwiches." She nervously hurried from the room while George took a seat on the couch, looking around curiously at her apartment. The first thing he noticed was how _sterile_ it appeared. It barely looked lived in. The cleanliness was making him uneasy so he messed up the perfectly straight stacks of magazines on her coffee table.

"Well, I suppose it's a start," George said to himself. Suddenly Hermione entered the living room with an overloaded tray. She smiled nervously as she put it down on her small breakfast table. George left the couch, where he'd been awkwardly perched trying not to get anything dirty and joined Hermione at the table. His eyes widened at the selection she'd made up.

"I didn't know how you liked your tea, so I got some honey, milk, lemon, and sugar," Hermione babbled nervously, "and here are little cucumber sandwiches, liverwurst sandwiches, and some peanut butter in case you don't like the others." She pointed to the various triangle-shaped sandwiches on the platter. When she looked up to gauge George's reaction to the meal, she saw him laughing. "What?" She asked, scared she'd done something wrong.

"Hermione, it's just _me_. You didn't have to go to all this trouble. I would have been fine with bread and water. Seriously."

"Well, I just didn't know. I don't do a lot of, well, entertaining," Hermione reasoned.

"I can sort of tell. It looks like you barely spend your time here, let alone anyone else," George said laughing.

"Hey I like things clean," Hermione said surveying her immaculate flat, "you messed up my magazines didn't you?" She asked, turning to glare at him with her hands on her hips. George just laughed and started helping himself to sandwiches.

"Hey Hermione?" George asked through a mouth full of food, which painfully reminded Hermione of Ron back in their school days. "Where's Crookshanks?"

"He, um, died, last year." She said quietly before sipping some tea.

"What?" George exclaimed, spraying food across the table.

"Yes, George, all cats do eventually die," Hermione said in a play voice, like she was talking to a very small child.

"Even cats that are part kneazle?" He asked mischievously. Hermione gasped.

"How did you know that? No one else ever figured it out!"

"Hey, I am much smarter than anyone ever gave me credit for!" George exclaimed.

"Well, I guess _some_ of your inventions are a tiny bit clever," she said, smiling despite herself. George grinned proudly. "But it could have just been Fred's intelligence all along and none of yours," Hermione added, with an evil little look in her eye.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. Hermione laughed aloud, something she'd been doing an awful lot since George Weasley had come back into her life.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked tentatively. George looked at her through narrowed eyes but nodded anyways. "What's everyone doing now? I mean like jobs? Did Harry get into Auror training? And the Ginny and Ron…" She trailed off.

"Well Harry did get into the Auror training program, though he never actually took his N.E.W.T.'s. I think they figured they owed him after he brought down Voldemort and everything. They offered Ron a position as well, but he decided to take a little less dangerous route. He works as a Junior Financial Advisor for the Chudley Cannons. It's basically his dream job. He talks about Quidditch all day and gets tickets to all the matches. It took Ginny a while to decide what she really wanted to do after graduating Hogwarts, what with all the turmoil following the Final Battle, but she is nearly finished training as a Healer. She's already been offered a position at St. Mungo's in the Creature-Induced Injuries Department. I imagine once she's finished with her training Harry will probably propose to her." George paused, for a sip of tea, before continuing, somewhat cautiously. "Hopefully when they do get married, you'll be there too." He braced himself for another explosion from Hermione, but it didn't come. Instead she just whispered, mostly into her cup of tea,

"I hope so too."

A/N: I know this is a little short, sorry about that. I hope you like it though! Please read and review! Thanks so much!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything I love.

**Chapter 6: Grace and Fred**

When Hermione finally managed to get George Weasley out the door with many promises that they could get together sometime during the week, she collapsed on the couch. Suddenly Hermione was aware of all the work Grace put into her Saturday night parties. Hermione could barely handle playing hostess to one guest, let alone fifty. Thinking about the parties, Hermione remembered the owl that had shown up this morning before George came for lunch. It had been from Grace, telling her to apparate over the second she had a free moment. Hermione took off the flowered skirt she had been wearing for her lunch date with George and slipped into a pair of old, comfortable jeans. She grabbed her purse and wand and apparated into the hallway outside of Grace's apartment. She knocked tentatively at the door, hoping she wasn't interrupting anything; she learned the hard way that apparating directly into Grace's kitchen once Max had moved in was a potentially mortifying experience. Suddenly the door swung open, almost violently, and Grace was yelling at Hermione.

"Hermione Jane Granger, you have had me worried sick!"

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, coming in and slipping off her sandals.

"Excuse me? Have you forgotten that you just DISAPPEARED from my house last night with some strange man who you have obviously had a very traumatic history with, AND THEN I owl you this morning at NINE O'CLOCK and you don't even show up until, what time is it? FOUR THIRTY!" Grace shouted, hands on hips. Max popped his head around the corner and smiled warmly at Hermione, he was used to his fiancée's wild outbursts by now.

"Ah, hello Hermione. Lovely day, isn't it? Can I get you a spot of tea?" He asked jovially. Hermione nodded back at Max and plopped down on their couch, preparing herself for some more shouting. She smiled serenely at Grace who glared first at Max and then at Hermione.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Grace spat out.

"Darling, I'd like to remind you that the whole point of your little parties is for Hermione to meet a nice man. It looks like that is precisely what she did. You should be congratulating her, not lecturing her," Max said as he brought out a cup of tea for Hermione. She smiled appreciatively up at Max who just winked at her as if to say _My goodness, my fiancée is such a lovely rational creature isn't she?_

"Grace if you would just sit down and breathe for a moment I will tell you everything that happened," Hermione said, patting the sofa next to her. Max excused himself, not really caring to hear the play by play of what happened between his client and Grace's best friend, as Hermione launched into a very detailed account of her and George's conversations, both the night before and that afternoon over lunch. When she was finished, Grace sighed and fell back onto the couch dramatically.

"This is _so_ romantic," she sighed.

"Romantic?" Hermione asked, a little alarmed. "No no no, there is nothing _romantic_ going on. He's just my friend, he's practically like a brother to me."

"Oh yeah, you're definitely right. An incredibly sweet, charming, attractive, and good-smelling brother who you've already had two dates with and have another planned," Grace said sarcastically.

"They aren't dates!" Hermione insisted, "Did I really say he was good-smelling?"

"Yes!" Grace giggled.

"Oh," Hermione said, blushing a little. "But you don't understand how it is with them Grace. I'm like his little brother's best friend. And his little brother's almost-fiancée, I might add. At Hogwarts I was just Hermione Granger, know-it-all, goody-two-shoes prefect and they were like George and Fred Weasley, Quidditch stars and pranksters extraordinaire.

"Wait, they? Oh! They! There are twooooo of them!" Grace said excitedly.

"Yeah, they're twins," Hermione said, trying to hide a smile.

"Twinssssssss!" Grace squealed loudly, "Can I date the other one?" She shrieked, jumping up and down a little on her knees. Max cleared his throat loudly from the other room,

"I can still hear you, you know," he retorted.

"Sorry honey!" Grace said, giggling some more and blushing. Hermione should have known better, romance always turns Grace into a thirteen-year-old girl again.

"So what are you going to wear on your next date with him?" Grace said excitedly.

"It's NOT a date!" Hermione groaned. _What did I get myself into?_ She asked herself as Grace started listing all of Hermione's clothes that were not acceptable date material.

George whistled a little as he meandered through the streets of London. He'd decided to walk, rather than apparate so he could enjoy the beautiful weather and think about his lunch with Hermione. It had been perfectly delightful. She had not run out like she had at the coffee shop. She had not burst into tears. She hadn't even freaked out when he mentioned her being at Harry and Ginny's wedding. _And_ she'd agreed to meet with him again that week, though she had admitted she was worried they were going to quickly run out of things to talk about. George had reassured her that they would never run out of things to talk about because he could always regale her with stories from his "glory days" at Hogwarts. She had just groaned, but George knew she would secretly really enjoy it; all the other girls he'd dated had loved his stories! George felt a blush creeping into his cheeks. _I'm not dating her!_ he scolded himself. Besides, Hermione was quite different from other girls he'd dated. _Too bad I don't have stories about all the great times I had studying in the library and getting good grades to regale her with_, he thought to himself. He was pondering their next date, er, meeting, when he got back to his flat that afternoon.

"Hey George," Fred called from living room where he was going over some files spread out over the coffee table. "It's about time you got home. You've only got 20 minutes to pack before we need to head out."

"Head out?" George asked, a little bewildered.

"Yeah, you know, for the train. The same train we take every Sunday night to get back home. You do remember we meet with the Hogsmeade division of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes every Monday? Merlin, what's this girl done to you?" Fred exclaimed. George blushed. He had completely forgotten about his business obligations.

"Don't you think I could just skip the Hogsmeade meeting this week? I've got some important stuff to go over with Max about the deal," George said nonchalantly, knowing that his twin would not fall for his lie.

"Ahh, right, stuff to go over with _Max_," Fred said suspiciously. "Hey! Max! How does this girl know Max? She was at his party right?"

"Um…" George said, trying to think of something reasonable to say.

"Now I can just ask Max who she is and not bother with you anymore," Fred announced happily.

"No! No, don't ask Max about it. I'll tell you about her, ok?" George said, his eyes wide, afraid Max would tell Fred about Hermione. Fred narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Just not today, because you've got to catch your train, and there's really just too much to say about her." Fred grumbled a little but decided to lay off his twin, who seemed very flustered by the whole situation. _He must _really_ like this one_, Fred thought to himself.

"So when do I get to meet her?" Fred asked, with a twinkle in his eye. George knew that look well and shook his head adamantly.

"You're not meeting this one. I know what you're thinking. We are not going to switch places!"

"Come on, George, why not? We haven't done it in _years_ and life around here is so boring. You never want to have fun anymore," Fred pouted.

"Oh come off it, Fred. Has it ever occurred to you that switching places is not the way to gain a girl's trust? It's not the way to have a _serious _relationship," George said angrily.

"_Relationship?_ What the bloody hell is going on with you? It's like you want to marry the girl or something!" Fred shouted. George blushed.

"It's not that, Fred, it's just that this girl is _nice_. She's too good for tricks and childish games," George said, painfully aware that his face was redder than his hair at the moment.

"Well if you're going to marry her, she better be able to handle some pranks every once in a while. Now I'm heading to the station. I'll be back Wednesday morning and you better be ready to give me everything you know about this girl," with that Fred was gone. Feeling quite pent-up and anxious for some reason, George changed his clothes and headed back outside for a jog around the neighbor while the weather was still nice.

A/N: Ok, here's another chapter. I hope you guys are still enjoying it, I know there isn't a ton of action happening yet, but I think the next chapter will be a little more exciting. Fred will find out about Hermione and all sort of mischief will ensue. Yay! Hehe. Oh and thank you thank you thank you to those of you reviewing this story. I seriously jump up and down on my bed like a six year old every time I read another one! So I love you all dearly. Also, **julyjules** I've been reading "Didn't see that coming" and I really really like it! Ok well I hope to update again soon. Thanks for reading everyone!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling might own all the really great characters, but at least I've got Grace and Max!

**Chapter 7: Fred's Surprise**

Spending time at the apartment in London without Fred was a little weird, George had to admit, but nice at the same time. He could watch whatever he wanted on their television, sing as loudly as he wanted in the shower, and walk around completely naked if he so chose. Though he wanted to spend all his time until Wednesday talking to Hermione, he realized that they both had jobs to do. When he walked into the London office on Monday, Max greeted him with a mischievous smile.

"I just wanted to let you know that every single move you make is being carefully noted and relayed to my darling future-wife and they didn't make her gossip columnist for nothing you know, so I would watch your back," Max said as he followed George to their conference room, coffee in hand. George scratched his head a little uncomfortably.

"Um, listen Max..." George started, more than a little embarrassed.

"Oh don't worry, I've already been threatened with my life by both Grace and Hermione if I say a word about her to Fred. I don't completely understand the situation, but I do know that it's pretty important to her. So I'll keep my mouth shut. In fact, just saying this to you might be a major breach of contract," Max said with a laugh. George found that he liked the man more and more every day. It sounded like he knew how to put up with Hermione and that crazy Grace pretty well. Before starting their meeting, George stopped by his desk to look over his messages and jot a note to Hermione asking if he could come by the Prophet around 12:15 to take her out to lunch.

As Hermione sat at her desk looking over the transcript of the latest political press conference, Grace came banging through her door. She waved around a small piece of parchment.

"Looook, he owled you! First thing this morning!" Grace said jumping around excitedly.

"He who?" Hermione said, still absorbed in her transcript.

"George!"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed with surprise, looking up at Grace. Her eyes narrowed a bit, "How come you always get my messages before I do?"

"I'm the _gossip columnist_, Mione, it's my _job_," she explained. "Now read it and tell me what he says."

"I'm surprised you didn't read it yourself," Hermione laughed. She opened the parchment that was stamped with an official looking seal of three interlocking W's. "He wants to take me out to lunch, are you satisfied now, Miss Gossip?" Grace smiled smugly and her eyes lit up.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Grace! I'm going to wear this! It's not like I keep a change of clothes here." Hermione looked down at her plain black robes.

"Really?" Grace asked incredulously, "What do they teach you at Hogwarts? At Beauxbatons we learned that a lady should always be prepared for a romantic rendezvous." Hermione rolled her eyes, but did look down at her rather drab robes doubtfully. "What do you have on underneath there?" Grace asked, looking at Hermione appraisingly. Hermione bashfully disrobed. "Ahhh," Grace squealed. Hermione looked at her, a little frightened to be honest. "Hermione Jane Granger you are adorable!" Hermione blushed. Under her robes Hermione was wearing a yellow cardigan with capped sleeves and a knee length skirt with yellow, green, and white stripes. Though she felt a little like a daisy, she felt feminine and pretty. Hermione would never admit it, but she had dressed extra carefully, you know, just in case.

After making Hermione spin around a couple times to get the full picture, Grace got to work fixing up Hermione's hair. Hermione tried swatting her away, explaining that she had _work_ to do, but Grace could not be averted. After ten minutes of fiddling with Hermione's hair, she stepped back to appraise her work. "Ahhh, perfect," she cooed. She had done a marvelous job straightening Hermione's hair and pinning it back into a half ponytail, tied with a yellow ribbon.

"Do they teach you this, too, at that school of yours?" Hermione joked, despite being quite pleased with her best friend's hair styling ability. Grace just beamed then crashed onto one of the chairs in Hermione's office.

"So what do we do now?" She asked, looking up at Hermione expectantly.

"Um Grace, I don't know about you, but I have work to do," Hermione said, trying to politely kick Grace out of her office.

"Oh fine, but I'll come visit again before he shows up to make sure you didn't mess up your hair or anything else." With that, Grace swept out of the office and down the hall, undoubtedly to find someone to gossip with.

George tapped the eraser of his pencil anxiously against the edge of the conference room table. It was beginning to irritate everyone in the meeting, but no one had the guts to tell him to stop.

"So what do you think?" One of the men on the marketing team asked. George looked up surprised, not noticing that the presentation had stopped.

"Erm…hm…well," George stammered. Quite honestly, he had not seen much of the presentation. George caught Max's eye who was smiling at him, quite aware of where his mind was. George blushed guiltily. "Wow, that was…great, I think. Before we make any decisions, though, I should talk to my brother Fred." With this, the meeting was dismissed and George looked at his watch, wondering what exactly he could do until 12:15.

At noon, George decided he had wasted a sufficient amount of time and could head over to the Daily Prophet offices. He stopped by to tell his secretary that he had reservations at the Raspberry Tearoom for 12:15 and that he should be back by 2, then dashed out the door. He apparated to the street outside the Daily Prophet and looked at his watch. It was only 12:03, so he still had some time to kill. Suddenly he wondered if he should have brought some flowers. He looked down the way where some street vendors were set up. Though he passed stands full of magazines, vegetables, and glowing amulets with magical powers, he found no flowers…unless broccoli counted. Deciding broccoli was not suitable for the occasion, he headed back to the Prophet office. Once inside he was directed to the third floor by a sweet, grandmotherly old witch.

In Hermione's office a very nervous girl was pacing the floor and munching on her fingernails.

"Grace sit down, he won't be here for another ten minutes," Hermione said looking up briefly from the story she was writing, "You're going to wear a hole in the floor."

"Well Hermione, someone's got to be nervous for this date," Grace reasoned.

"For the last time Grace, this is not a date," Hermione scolded her. There was a light knock at the door and the secretary peeked her head.

"Miss Granger, your date is here," Olivia whispered with a hint of a smile.

"Don't call him that!" Hermione hissed. She straightened her skirt and turned to ask Grace if she looked all right. "Grace?" Hermione asked, wondering if she'd apparated out. Then she heard Grace's overexcited voice on the other side of her door.

"Hi, I'm Grace, Hermione's best friend. I think you're working with my fiancée, Max, on a marketing project at the moment? I know we were probably introduced at the party Saturday, but at the time I had no idea that you were part of Hermione's dear Weasley family, of course the red hair made me a little suspicious." George was nodding along as she babbled, but seemed relieved when Hermione showed up at his side ready to go to lunch.

As they walked out of the office (with everyone's eyes staring holes in the back of their heads) George was suddenly quite unsure of what to say.

"You look nice," he said quietly. "Do you always dress so…prettily for work?" He asked awkwardly. _Is prettily even a word?_ he wondered. Hermione cringed, not knowing what to say.

"Um, sometimes?" It came out as more of a question than an answer, but it wasn't like she could say "oh I only dress this prettily when I have a hot date with one of my closest friends."

"Oh, well it's nice," George said. He was not sure why this was so awkward all of a sudden. Maybe because it was that she was dressed so _prettily_. Her hair was so straight and the yellow sweater was so… friendly? sunny? buttery? George wasn't exactly sure but it was nice.

"You look nice as well, I think it's the only time I've ever seen you wear a tie," Hermione pointed out. George touched the tie self-consciously.

"I had an important meeting this morning, so I sort of had to dress up. Company policy or something, which is complete rubbish because I own the company, I should be able to dress however I like." Hermione still had a hard time believing that George and Fred's little prank shop had turned into such a corporation. Luckily, Hermione was saved from having to think of another thing to say because they had arrived at the Raspberry Tearoom. "Do you come here often?" George asked, noting how close it was to her office.

"Um, no, actually it's my first time," she responded. She did not mention to him that she had never been here because it was more of a "date place" and she only ever ate lunch with Grace and sometimes Max. A very young, blonde witch showed them to their table with a lot of hostility, shooting George a dirty look before stalking away.

"Do you know her?" Hermione asked curiously.

"No, never seen her before. Maybe she went out with Fred once and he never owled her again," George said with a shrug. Hermione laughed a little.

"I guess you guys do look a lot alike," she astutely observed.

"Come to think of it, he went on a date with some blonde girl Saturday night, but she was horribly boring so he took her home early. He was back when I got in," George remembered.

"You haven't, um, told Fred, have you? I mean I know you probably tell him everything, but I mean, um," Hermione mumbled.

"No, I haven't told Fred, just like I promised. Plus, I heard about the death threats you gave Max in the event that he said anything, and I've decided not to get on the wrong side of you two," George explained. Hermione blushed a little but told him that Grace might look little but she was not a witch to be reckoned with.

They quickly eased into more comfortable conversation as the meal progressed, until a young boy came running through the restaurant and stopped at their table, panting a little.

"Mr. Weasley?" He asked, George nodded. "You've got to come right away, there's an emergency at the office!"

"It can't wait?" George asked hopefully.

"It's an _emergency_!" George sighed and looked at their half eaten meals.

"Look Hermione, I'll just run there, find out what's going on and get back here as soon as I can alright?" Hermione nodded as he took off with the little boy. She looked around awkwardly, realizing that the other patrons of the restaurant must be wondering what was going on.

Outside the shop, Fred Weasley watched the scene unfold. Knowing that his brother must have been staying in London for a far better reason than Max, Fred decided to sneak back to catch George in the act with his secret girlfriend. Knowing that apparating such a long distance was dangerous, Fred had floo'd back to the office around 12:30 and found his suspicions confirmed by George's secretary.

"The Raspberry Tearoom?" Fred asked the secretary, "Merlin he's turning into a total sap," he sighed before apparating outside the restaurant. He watched through the window as George and his secret girlfriend ate their lunches. Fred could tell immediately why George had said she was too "nice" for their pranks. She had her long brown hair pulled back with a yellow ribbon tied in a demure bow. It reminded him of Ginny when she was about seven years old, still sweet and innocent. That was when he sent his plan into action. Slipping a sickle into the outstretched palm of the little boy standing by his side, Fred snuck around the side of the building so he wouldn't be seen when George left the restaurant. When the coast was clear, Fred tapped his chest a couple times, making his shirt and tie the same color as George's had been, then strutted into the restaurant.

George's girlfriend looked so lonely sitting in the big booth, with her head down while she stirred her tea, that Fred figured he was doing her a grand favor by keeping her company for a while. He slipped in beside her as he said

"I think I forgot my goodbye kiss" and grabbed her chin and kissed her roughly on the lips. She pulled back sputtering and Fred finally got a good look at her face.

"FRED WEASLEY!"

"H-Hermione?" He shouted back.

A/N: Hello all my darling readers! I really hope you like this chapter because I worked very hard on it! Please let me know what you think! And thank you to all those who have reviewed already, you absolutely made my day!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything important, but I can claim the plot.

**Chapter 7: Broccoli Bouquets**

"You're George's SECRET GIRLFRIEND?" Fred bellowed.

"Secret girlfriend? Is that what he told you?" Hermione shrieked, very aware of the attention they were receiving from the rest of the restaurant.

"Well, not exactly…I suppose he just let me believe that because he wanted to keep you hidden. He probably wanted all the credit of finding you on his own, so Mum would love him best!" Fred realized. Hermione shook her head and pulled Fred onto the bench next to her so he would stop shouting and jumping about.

"Listen Fred, I _told_ him not to tell you. I didn't want anyone to know about me, especially your mum." Hermione said, hoping Fred would understand.

"Oh nooo. Mum! I wrote her a letter about George's new girlfriend! She thinks he's nearly engaged by now. She's going to be distraught when she finds out it's just you," Fred said with a sigh.

"Gee, thanks," Hermione mumbled, "but I actually don't want your mother finding out yet. This is really important to me, ok Fred? Fred? Oh nooo…" Her voiced trailed off as she and Fred both noticed a very irate, red-faced George charging towards their table. The entire restaurant was watching with rapt attention.

"Get away from her Fred!" George bellowed. "She doesn't want to see you. Just leave now before you upset her even more!" George tugged at his twin's arm, trying to get him to leave.

"George, George!" Hermione hissed, trying to get his attention. "He's not upsetting me. Would you please just calm down? Maybe we'd better leave now before we get thrown out for disturbing the peace." Hermione scooted along the bench, pushing Fred out in front of her. George had just enough time to drop a few galleons on the table before Hermione drug him from the restaurant by the sleeve.

As soon as they made it outside, the boys erupted into more irrational bickering about keeping secrets and fake emergencies. Though Hermione knew she was largely at fault for the misunderstanding, she hastily told George that she was leaving, and apparated back to her office. Once there she put her head in her hands and sighed. _What a disaster_, she thought to herself. Just when she'd thought Fred and George had grown up into mature, businessmen, this had to happen. Though she really shouldn't have been too surprised, it was completely characteristic. Suddenly, she could not stop laughing. It had not seemed funny at all when she was in the restaurant with everyone gawking at her, but now, the whole mess was really quite hilarious. _These_ were the Weasley twins she had known and loved. She found she could not stop laughing, even when her door flew open to reveal a very curious Grace.

"You little sneak, I've been staked out in front of your office for an hour waiting for you to show up and you just _had_ to apparate in. What are you laughing at?" She inquired. Hermione try to catch her breath enough to explain the story but it took a moment. Grace settled into an extra chair as she listened to every word, interrupting from time to time.

"He _kissed _you?" She exploded.

"Well, technically yes, but it really wasn't a kiss. He thought I was some random girl George had been hiding from him. And of course the rational thing to do in _that_ situation is to pounce on her from behind and trick her into thinking you're the other twin and then snog her senseless." Hermione said with as much seriousness as she could muster. Grace collapsed into giggles.

"If Ron was half as much fun as his brothers, then you really were wrong to tell him no," Grace exclaimed, still laughing outrageously. The smile slid off Hermione's face and Grace immediately knew she had said the wrong thing. "Oh Mione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," she started to explain.

"It's ok, Grace," Hermione said, mustering a brave smile, "it's hard for me to admit this, but meeting up with Ron's older brothers has actually convinced me that I did make the right choice, and not vice versa."

"Oh Hermione, I am so happy for you. And of _course_ you made the right decision. Because now you can marry George!" Grace exclaimed, clapping her hands together like an excited six year old. Hermione just rolled her eyes when someone knocked so vigorously that the door nearly fell in.

"Hermione, let us in! We know you're in there!" One twin, maybe George? shouted.

"Yeah, let us in before we kick down this door!" The other one said. Hermione opened the door up quickly, and in tumbled Fred and George.

"Oh, well that was easier than we thought," said one of them, as he picked himself up off the floor. The other dusted himself off and held out a bouquet, well, a bunch of broccoli as some sort of peace offering? Or perhaps a romantic gesture? Maybe just a simple reminder to eat her veggies? Hermione wasn't sure but she accepted the broccoli graciously and shut the door to avoid the prying eyes of the rest of her co-workers.

"Listen we want to apologize," one started. Hermione looked for the scar and noticed it was George, as she was disoriented by their matching clothes.

"Well mostly, George wanted to apologize. I'm not sorry at all for what I did, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Fred said with a wink. Grace tittered from behind Hermione's desk, trying not to go all-out girly and giggly. Though Hermione knew she should probably be quite cross with Fred, she couldn't help being thoroughly amused.

"Why don't you two sit down and we chat for awhile. George and I can explain everything to you, Fred," she said, conjuring a comfortable couch in place of her stiff desk chairs. Grace took this as a hint to leave and politely excused herself. Then Hermione sat down to explain how exactly she had met up with George and everything that had happened since, while George interjected funny things from time to time, including an explanation of the broccoli, much to Hermione's relief.

When Hermione finally got Fred and George to leave (she wondered ifit was to become a common occurrence) she collapsed in her chair, wondering how she could get any work done that afternoon. Suddenly the door was flung open again. Hermione was half expecting the twins to be back for another round of childhood anecdotes, but instead found every girl in the entire _building_ trying to crowd into her office.

"Graceeee" Hermione asked questioningly. All of a sudden the crowd gave a collective squeal as everyone pressed closer to her desk, asking a million questions.

"Were there _two_ of them?"

"How long have you known them?

"Are you dating them both?"

"When's the wedding?"

"Is that broccoli?"

Hermione could not take it anymore.

"All of you! Out now! Out! Out! OUT!" She shouted. The girls quietly shuffled from the room, scared to make another peep. Grace tried to slip out unnoticed, but Hermione caught her just in time. "Grace Seville take another step towards that door and I will hex you into last Tuesday!" Grace shut the door gingerly and turned around sheepishly, expecting to find a very livid Hermione. She was surprised though, as Hermione was smiling wider than she'd ever seen. Hermione let out a squeal that rivaled Grace's as she danced around her office in excitement.

"What has gotten into you?" Grace exclaimed. Hermione picked up the broccoli and spun around with ita few times, her skirt billowing around her knees.

"I like him!" She whispered excitedly. "I LIKE HIM!" This time much louder.

"You like him?" Grace squealed back. Hermione jumped up and down a little bit.

"Um- Hermione?" Grace asked all of a sudden. "Which one?"

A/N: Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you so so so much for all your reviews. I adore all of you, really I do! Please let me know what you think of this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything but the plot.

**Chapter 9: Kittens and Photographs**

"Um- Hermione?" Grace asked all of a sudden. "Which one?"

"Graceeee," Hermione groaned, assuming that the answer was quite obvious.

"So it is George then?" Grace asked with a laugh. In response, Hermione blushed a deep red. Then the two women dissolved into girlish laughter.

"Well this was quite the eventful day wasn't it?" Fred asked lightly as the twins walked home. George glared at his brother.

"I really don't think it was funny Fred. You don't understand how it is with her, you weren't there that first night when she was so upset. She confided in me, trusted me, and you wrecked that. And I told you I didn't want you butting into my relationships anymore, and you deliberately went against that," George lectured.

"Look, you're totally overreacting about this. She thought it was funny, George, funny! Anyways, it's not like she was a _real_ date, it's just Hermione," Fred countered, giving his twin a suspicious look. George wouldn't look his brother in the eye. "It wasn't a real date, was it?"

"No, it wasn't a real date Fred," George answered hurriedly, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Fred.

"Swell, I'm glad we've got that out of the way, because I was thinking of asking her out myself," Fred said, shooting George stealthy little glances out of the corner of his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

"No!"

"And why not? You may not have noticed how scrumptious she's looking these days, but I certainly have," Fred pointed out.

"You-you just can't. She's not ready to date. She's emotionally fragile," George stammered.

"_She's _emotional fragile? Are you sure it's not _you_ who's emotionally fragile, little bro?" Fred asked. George just scowled back at him.

"Just don't ask her out ok."

"Why not?" Fred shot back.

"Because, I-" George tried to explain.

"Because why George? Just admit it, for Merlin's sake."

"Alright, you can't ask Hermione out because I like her. I like her a lot and won't having you ruining that," George managed to spit out.

"I knew it!" Fred exclaimed triumphantly.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione continued to see George and Fred. More often than not, all three of them met togehter. The boys would crack Hermione up with stories from home over lunch and proudly show her their newest inventions over dinner. Time spent with Fred and George was never dull. However, Hermione preferred the time spent with George alone, despite being incredibly embarrassed after admitting her feelings to Grace. Spending time with George always seemed to bring Hermione closer and closer to seeing the rest of the Weasley family. He never let her forget that there was a Burrow full of people missing and loving her a short train ride away. One night George even brought over a photo album from the Burrow to show Hermione. She saw pictures of Percy's wedding to Penelope. They looked so happy dancing in the starlight. She saw pictures of Ginny, looking so grown up, opening Christmas presents last year. Harry was sitting next to her on the couch, looking every bit the unkempt little boy that he'd been when Hermione first met him on the Hogwart's Express nearly twelve years prior. Hermione even teared up when she saw pictures of Mrs. Weasley rocking her first grandchild, Percy's son, Elijiah. As August faded into September, Hermione was beginning to accept the idea of going back to the Burrow.

One morning, about halfway through September, Hermione was woken up, entirely too early, by forceful knocking at her door. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hermione cautiously opened the door to find George standing there.

"George Weasley," she hissed as she opened the door wider so he could come in, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Erm, 4:30?" He answered, sounding a little unsure of himself. His uncertainty passed within a second and was replaced with his usual confidence. With a cheeky grin, he added, "and my, aren't you bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning." She glared at him, trying not to betray her utter embarrassment at being caught in her pink striped pajamas.

"And what exactly are you doing here at 4:30 in the morning, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I just wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday," he said with a warm smile. The expression on Hermione's face softened considerably. She couldn't suppress the smile that appeared on her face, or the warmth in her cheeks. "I brought you something," he said, looking hopeful and excited. His tone of voice reminded Hermione of her childhood, when she would bring home school art projects for Father's day that were far from works of art. There had been one particularly hideous ashtray crafted from clay that still graced the desk in her dad's office, though he had never smoked a day in his life. Needless to say, Hermione was a little nervous to see what had George had brought her.

He sat down on the couch with his two packages, bouncing a little on the cushions out of excitement. Hermione sat down next to him shyly. He pushed the bigger box into her hands.

"Um, George? This box has air holes in it," she pointed out, quite afraid of what was inside. He only nodded enthusiastically. She pried the top off and was greeted by a meek "meow" from the creature inside.

"I know that she can't replace Crookshanks, but I just thought you might like a companion. She's part kneazle too." George said bashfully. Hermione cooed at the little gray kitten, lifting her out of the box and nuzzling it, nose to nose. George felt a rush of warmth at seeing the sweet, intimate little gesture between Hermione and her new pet. He cleared his throat and thrust the other gift into Hermione's hands. She opened it slowly, wondering what could possibly top the kitten. As the wrapping came off, revealing the treasure inside, Hermione inhaled sharply. She hugged the framed picture to her chest for a moment before throwing her arms around George's neck and hugging him tightly. All thoughts of pajamas and frizzy hair flew out the window as the effect of his gift hit her. It was a photograph of the Weasley family, plus Harry and Hermione, at Bill and Fleur's wedding the summer after Hermione's sixth year. They looked so happy, smiling and waving and hugging one another. In a year of sorrow and darkness, it had truly been a beacon of light. Tears spilled down Hermione's cheeks and onto George's gray Chudley Cannons t-shirt as she clung to his neck.

"It's perfect," she murmured. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her shaking frame and held her tight against him, perhaps a little too tight for an entirely platonic hug.

"I'm so glad Hermione," he whispered into her hairline as he kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I probably won't be updating as often as I have been because my boyfriend has just gotten in to town (we're living in two different states for the summer) and will be here for the next two weeks. Though he is a total enabler of my fanfiction addiction, I hope you all understand that I will be a little preoccupied. I will write as much as possible in my free time and try to keep you all updated. As always, please review, they just make my day!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.

**Chapter 10: Cosmopolitan Kisses**

Three days later, on Friday night, Hermione perched on a stool at the bar of a local pub, nervously sipping her pink cocktail. When George walked in the door he scanned the room for Hermione and, having spotted her sitting there with her back to him, hurried across the room to meet her. Sneaking up on her from behind, he wrapped his hands around her eyes. She tensed up under his hands.

"Guess who?" He whispered into her ear. She relaxed when she heard his familiar voice. Relaxed was an understatement actually seeing as how she positively melted at the touch of his breath on her ear. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the lead pipe?" She asked with a laugh.

"Huh?" He asked as he took a seat on the bar stool next to her.

"Oh nevermind, it's a muggle thing," she said lightly, not caring to go into the elaborate explanation of her favorite childhood game, Clue.

"Oh you crazy muggles," he said with a slightly confused laugh. He eyed her drink suspiciously as he ordered himself a firewhiskey. "I never pegged you as a Cosmopolitan type of girl." Hermione blushed as pink as her drink.

"Well, I'm just full of surprises," she said, smiling coyly. At that moment George very much wanted to kiss her, but he controlled his urge as Hermione looked down shyly into her drink, embarrassed at her own boldness. She did not tell George that she was not a 'Cosmopolitan type of girl' at all. In fact she was much more of a 'club soda type of girl' but she had had a rough day of work and just couldn't deny her peculiar weakness for things colored pink.

An hour later George and Hermione walked arm in arm out of the bar. It was less arm in arm, actually, and more Hermione hanging on to George for dear life. After one and a half Cosmopolitans, she was feeling pretty shaky on her feet, and wasn't sure she could apparate home safely. George was more than willing to walk her home and, he thought to himself, tuck her in to bed, if necessary.

After letting themselves into Hermione's apartment, George busied himself in the kitchen making some very strong coffee in attempt to sober her up a bit. She was by no means drunk, but she was not used to drinking, and George was a little worried about how she would feel in the morning.

"I am so sorry George. I don't usually drink. I had no idea that so little liquid could make me feel so…dizzy," she tried to explain as he pushed a steaming cup of coffee into her hands. Her kitten hopped up onto the couch and settled onto George's lap. He petted her gently as he watched Hermione with concern.

"What'd you name her?" George asked. Curiously, Hermione blushed a little.

"Sugar," she said softly. She was surprised when he didn't laugh.

"That's sweet," he said. Then laughed, "no pun intended." She smiled at him stroking the little gray kitten.

"Her full name is actually The Sugar Plum Fairy, but she goes by Sugar," Hermione explained. George's brow furrowed in confusion, wondering if this was the alcohol talking. "Oh I suppose you don't know about the Nutcracker Ballet either?" She asked, a little disappointed. He shook his head, obviously bewildered. "Oh nevermind," she sighed, "it's too complicated to explain." George looked at her sadly, wishing that he understood the muggle part of her life.

"Do you miss being a muggle?" He asked her. She looked up, startled. While he waited for her answer he looked around her living room. She had a television, though most wizards did these days, a telephone, a computer sitting on a desk in the corner, and a car sitting on the street in front of her house. In her kitchen, he remembered, was a toaster, a microwave, and anelectric can opener, among other things.

"I guess I don't miss _being_ a muggle. I've been a witch since the day I was born, I just didn't know it. I never _really _belonged, you know? But there are things about the muggle world that I miss. When I was eleven I made the choice to leave my world, my friends, even my parents, behind. I didn't realize then what the implications would be. All I could think about was how special I was because I was being asked to attend this secret school and be part of this secret little club. But it wasn't just some little club, I had to join a whole new world. And I loved it, please don't think that I don't love the wizarding world. I belong here. But, I miss having a normal relationship with my parents. I never could bring home my A+ essays, I couldn't show them the new charm that I learned, or the spell that I mastered before anyone else in my year. I feel bad that there are so many parts of my life that I can't show them," she babbled, sharing the things she had never told anyone before. "I guess sometimes I feel bad for how easy magic makes my life. I just miss doing things the old, hard way. I miss crawling around in the flowerbed on my hands and knees under the burning sun pulling weeds. I miss the accomplished feeling after cleaning my whole house without magic. I miss baking homemade cookies even if they get all messed up because I put in a tablespoon of baking powderinstead ofbaking soda," she laughed a choked little laugh at this, but George saw the tears threatening to spill. He scootched nervously across the couch and rubbed her shoulders a little. "Why do I end up crying every time you come over?" She teased him, as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Oh Hermione I'm sorry, I never should have brought this up," he whispered, feeling ashamed. She shook her head at him, looking up with her bright, watery brown eyes.

"No George, please don't be sorry. I'm just upset because I've never told anyone this. And I've never told anyone because no one ever cared enough to notice, no one ever cared enough to ask." Sitting so close to her on her couch, with her damp, pink cheeks, and sparkling eyes, George was overwhelmed, for the second time that night, with the desire to kiss Hermione. He tried his best to ignore the urge, telling himself that it would be completely indecent to take advantage of her while she was slightly inebriated and crying. Luckily he only had to restrain himself for a moment, because a second later Hermione had reached up and kissed him squarely on his lips. For a moment he kissed her back, but the next he was pulling away. Hermione looked at him, looking quite confused, and more than a little mortified by her actions.

"Her-Hermione, I have to go," he stuttered, not looking her directly in the eyes. He grabbed his jacket where it was swung across the back of an overstuffed chair and rushed out the door, leaving a horrified Hermione sitting, paralyzed, on the couch.

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry in the delay between updates. I hope you like this chapter! I'll update again soon, I hope. Please read and review!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

**Chapter 11: Oh-So-Kissable Lips**

Hermione put her head in her hands and gave a little shudder. What was she thinking actually kissing him? Kissing him! What a grand way to mess up everything good that had been happening in her life lately. Sugar came up and nuzzled her little pink nose against Hermione's arm. While Hermione should have seen this as a sweet little gesture, she was only reminded of George. George George George. George with those fantastic eyes, broad shoulders, and oh-so-kissable lips. Damn those kissable lips.

"Go away Sugar," Hermione muttered angrily.

George ran halfway down the hallway of Hermione's apartment building before stopping. He leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. _What the hell was going on?_ He wondered. Why was she kissing him? And most important, why was he stopping her? George knew, of course, why he had stopped her. She was an emotional wreck and halfway drunk on Cosmos. He would have been a complete creep to go on kissing her in that state. What if she'd woken up the next day and thought he had taken advantage of her? Or worse, what if she woke up the next day and forgotten everything that happened while he flew through the day on cloud nine, thinking they were dating and in love? George groaned as he ran his hands through his auburn hair. He knew thatthey probably needed to have a serious talk in which he would have to tell Hermione his feelings for her, but at the moment, all he could think of were her sparkling eyes, his arms around her, and those soft rosy lips. Oh, those lips.

Hermione paced around her apartment anxiously. She very much wanted to stick her head in the fireplace and scream until Grace came to see what was going on. However, Hermione knew that Grace had romantic dinner plans with Max, and by this time (goodness gracious, is it 12:30 already?) she would be quite…occupied, to say the least. The heady, floating feeling Hermione had felt earlier as a result of the drinks had long since ceased, and she vowed never to touch alcohol again, seeing as how it obviously made her do crazy things. However, Hermione could not ignore the little voice in her head saying kissing George was not crazy at all, but a logical culmination of their increasingly romantic relationship. After all, he had given her a kitten. If a kitten didn't scream "I want you to have my children," she was not sure what did. Before she could have another thought about having George's babies, the door was flung wide open.

An embarrassed looking George stood there. Hermione's jaw dropped, wondering if she should try to apologize for her obscene behavior earlier. She didn't get a chance though because George had crossed her living room in two quick strides and swept her up in his arms. This time when their lips met, neither felt nervous, shy, or guilty about it.

"Hermione," George said, pulling apart from her, "I just, I, um," He stammered.

"I know George, I know. Me too," she said, hoping he was saying what she thought he was saying. George's mouth confirmed her suspicions as he caught her up in another kiss. He scooped her up and carried her to the couch, laying her down gently as he continued to explore her mouth with his.

A/N: Just so you know, this is not at all how I was going to do this chapter. I was just going to have George go home and mope to Fred and Hermione rush off and cry to Grace, but everyone seemed so dismayed that George had left her, that I just had to have him rush back in and make everything better. I hope you like how it ended up. Also, I know this is INCREDIBLY short, but I will hopefully be updating again soon. Also, no one really needs to know what happened after all that kissing. We'll all find out the morning after, I suppose. As always, please read and review. I adore all your notes! Thank you so much!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

**Chapter 12: Breakfast in Bed**

"Rise and shine sleepyhead," George cooed as he walked into Hermione's room the next morning. She smiled as she emerged from sleep, remembering the night before. George perched on the side of her bed and pushed a lock of brown hair from her forehead, watching her adoringly.

"What's this?" She asked, sleepily, as he placed a tray on her lap.

"Breakfast in bed," he announced jovially. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"You made this? It looks so, so edible!" She exclaimed. George glared at her but kissed her playfully. She kissed him back, barely believing this was truly happening.

"Well I did use magic," he admitted after breaking apart from her. "But I did make it all myself." He grinned at her proudly. She sampled a bite of eggs from the tray and was shocked to find them not only edible, but delicious too. Hermione smiled at her own discovery of George's hidden cooking talent, wondering how many other secrets of his she could uncover. Suddenly her mouth went dry. She put her fork down carefully and bit her lip a little.

"Do you do this often?" She asked, not quite making eye contact with his wide, bright blue eyes..

"Do what?"

"Make girls breakfast in bed." She tried to keep things playful, joking, but she couldn't hide the serious look in her eyes. It was important to her to know that she mattered, that she wasn't just another of his…. It suddenly dawned on him the meaning behind her questions. He raised her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"No Hermione, I do not do this often," he answered her seriously. He could see relief wash over her face as she relaxed a little.

"Thanks," she whispered a little, leaning forward to kiss him.

"For what?" He murmured as one arm snaked around her waist and the other removed the breakfast tray from her lap.

"Everything," she smiled as their lips met again.

A few minutes later they were forced to break apart when a scream resonated through Hermione's apartment. George looked up startled, fear coursing though his eyes, but Hermione only sighed and fell back into her pillows; she recognized that scream.

"Graceeee," she groaned as she disentangled herself from George, angry at her friend for interrupting. When George and Hermione appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, Grace's screams turned into squeals. She did not appear embarrassed in the least that she had caught George and Hermione so red faced, swollen lipped, and disheveled.

"Oh my God! You guysssss," she squealed, obviously excited that they had finally gotten together.

"Are you going to tell me what you were screaming about, or just keep gawking at us?" Hermione asked giving her friend an icy stare despite the burning of her blushed cheeks. Grace had to think a moment before remembering what exactly she'd been screaming about. Hermione rolled her eyes at Grace's absentmindedness.

"Oh, I remember now. Your kitchen! It's like a tornado went through it. I thought you'd been kidnapped or something." Hermione turned around to stare questioningly at George. He looked sheepish, like a naughty little child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I thought you said you cooked by _magic_," Hermione asked, a tiny smile playing across her lips.

"Well I tried to cook the muggle way first…it just…didn't go so well," George explained. Hermione led the way to her kitchen to investigate the situation. She let out a gasp as she peeked in. The kitchen was in complete chaos. There was something slightly green bubbling out of a pot on the stove. An entire package of bacon was stuffed into the toaster, which could have been disaster, Hermione thought with a shudder, except that the toaster was unplugged. The kitchen sink was overflowing with…spaghetti? Flour was scattered everywhere, though Hermione had no idea what George would have been trying to use it for. There were grapes smashed on the floor and a puddle of orange juice pooling around a very sticky kitten. George looked around the kitchen for a moment and then made a dash for the door. Hermione was expecting this, though, and grabbed him around the waist.

"No no no, you are not going anywhere," she told him. He looked at her worriedly, hoping she was not about to unleash her wrath on him. However, her big brown eyes were sparkling and all of a sudden she burst out laughing. She really couldn't help it. The look on his face was priceless. "You are just so cute," she giggled. He swooped in for another kiss, relieved that she wasn't angry. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss. Grace just stood rooted to the ground beaming.

"Awww," she said, more to herself than either Hermione or George.

"Graceeee," Hermione warned, pulling away from George for a moment.

"Ok, ok, I'm going," and with a little pop, she was gone. Hermione turned back to George to continue the kissing. She still couldn't believe that she had spent the morning kissing George Weasley.

"Hermione?" George asked.

"Mmm," she murmured as he kissed neck.

"Come to the Burrow with me," he whispered.

"Ok," she replied. She hadn't really meant to agree to going to the Burrow with him, but at that particular moment her thoughts were otherwise occupied.

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I hope to write another, longer one, soon! Please read and review as always and let me know if you like where this is going or if you want to see any changes or anything. Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: As you all well know, I do not own Harry Potter.

**Chapter 13: Getting Ready**

Later that afternoon, George dialed the number to the Burrow on the old "tellyfoam" he and Fred kept at their apartment. He knew he had to act fast before Hermione changed her mind again about coming home. Once Molly got on the other line, George hurriedly explained that he had someone he'd like her to meet and asked if he could bring her to the dinner they were having Friday night in honor of Ginny's graduation from Healer training. He also told her, though he regretted it a moment later, that he'd like to bring her over a little early so she could see Molly before everyone else showed up. Hermione had explained to George that morning that it was not Ron or Harry she feared seeing the most, but Mrs. Weasley. Hermione felt like she had disappointed Molly most of all, seeing as how the Weasleys had taken her in and always made her feel like family. Molly had seven children of her own to take care of, but she never failed in making sure Hermione was safe and well fed. The moment George told his mother about bringing his "friend" to dinner early, he was forced to recoil sharply, holding the receiver far from his ear. He stared at the device strangely, assuming it was malfunctioning somehow, before realizing that the noise was caused from his mother bawling her eyes out on the other end of the line.

"Um, Mum?" He asked, trying to make out what she was saying, if anything. "Oh dear me, another one of my babies falling in love and getting married. I can't believe this is happening. Oh George this is so wonderful. I never expected you to settle down this soon, or ever really. I can't wait to meet her and…" His mother wailed. George's eyes were getting bigger and bigger, horrified at his mother's inferences.

"No Mum, it's not like that. She's just a friend, well, sort of," at the moment, he didn't really know what she was, but he certainly didn't want his mother assuming they were getting _married_.

"Oh of course dear, she's just a _friend_. That's precisely what Percy said about Penelope before I caught them snogging on the living room couch. But ever since Fred owled me about your 'secret girlfriend,' I just knew you had finally found the one. Oh George," her voice cracked up as she succumbed to more crying. George kicked his foot against the wall at an increasingly faster pace as he waited for his mother to calm down enough to try and explain things a little, all the while cursing Fred for his nosiness.

Hermione spent the next week in emotional turmoil. On the one hand, she was absolutely elated about her and George's relationship, however unofficial it might be. She retold the story of their weekend together at least 12 times to Grace, who seemed giddy and girly every single time. Then, suddenly, she would remember her promise to George to go to the Burrow and she would freak out. Hermione didn't know whether to burst out in tears or scream till she was blue in the face. She settled for both, along with stomping, a great amount of stomping. Her secretary, Olivia, took to tiptoeing in and out of Hermione's office as quickly as possible before Hermione could yell or throw something at her head, after an unfortunate incident with a memo bearing bad news and a muggle stapler. By the time Friday rolled around, Hermione was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. For that matter, so was Grace, who had been dealing with Hermione as patiently as possible.

"Hermione, stop biting your nails," Grace said sweetly, pulling Hermione's hand from her mouth for the 15th time that afternoon.

"I can't help it," Hermione said as she began biting the nails of her other hand. Grace sighed.

"Look, why don't we take the rest of the day off. We're not going to get any work done around here anyways. I already finished my column for the week, and no one _really_ cares about all those politics you write about. We'll go home, pick out your clothes for tonight, paint your nails, or whatever is left of them. Ohhh, we can do face masks!" Grace squealed. Hermione grimaced, both at Grace's high pitch and the idea of smothering green gunk all over her face. However, she did give in and let Grace drag her out of the office and over to a little shop which apparently had great pumpkin exfoliating scrubs, whatever that meant.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was relaxing in a tub full of pink bubbles, goop the color of moldy pumpkins smeared over her face, while Grace scrutinized the contents of her closet. Although Hermione thought choosing an outfit would be quite simple due to her careful color-coding, Grace insisted on taking everything out and spreading it across Hermione's room. Each pile was a different category of garment: one for robes, one for dress robes, one for shortish skirts, one for longish skirts, one for skirts Hermione should never ever wear again because they were horribly ugly, one for sweaters, one for blouses, one for t-shirts, and so on. Grace was admiring a v-neck gray sweater, which looked wonderful with her long blonde hair, when she heard a yelp from the bathroom. She knocked hesitantly before pushing open the door. Inside Hermione, clad in a fluffy bath towel, was hopping around on one foot, covered in blood.

"Hermione! What the bloody hell are you doing?" Grace shouted in surprise. Hermione's hopping about slowed a little as she looked up at Grace bewilderedly.

"I'm shaving," she answered, assuming it was quite obvious. She brandished the razor in her hand to reiterate the point.

"Like that?" Grace asked, stunned.

"Yes, like this, how else would I do it?"

"Oh I don't know Hermione, let me think about that. Remind me again how many years you've been a WITCH," Grace exclaimed, obviously amused that her know-it-all best friend had made such a humorous blunder. "Didn't Hogwarts teach you _anything_ important?" Grace sighed. Hermione burst out laughing. She would not have normally found this situation funny at all, but after such a stressful, emotional week, this suddenly eased all her tension. After muttering the incantation to clear all the blood from her legs, Hermione listened attentively as Grace showed her how to shave her legs, as well as pluck her eyebrows, magically.

"I can't believe I've been doing this the muggle way for so long," Hermione sighed. "You have no idea how many times I almost poked my eyes out with those damn tweezers." Grace just laughed, glad Hermione was finally relaxing.

While Hermione changed into the clothes Grace had finally decided on, a knock came at her front door.

"Grace? Can you get that for me? It's probably George, tell him I'll be right out," Hermione shouted from her room. Grace flung open the door to find not one George, but two. Technically, one of them was Fred, but to the untrained eye they were indistinguishable.

"What no broccoli this time?" She asked, recalling the last time she'd seen both the twins together. They smiled the same debonair smile and one of them pulled out a colorful handkerchief, which turned into a head of broccoli with a flick of his wrist.

"Ohh, a little Houdini," Grace said with a patronizing smile. She looked Fred and George up and down, searching for some way to tell them apart, wondering how Hermione ever did. "Shouldn't you guys dress differently or something so people know who you are?" She asked.

"What's the fun in that?" One of twins asked with a shrug. Hermione came out of her room at that moment and smiling at Grace walked up behind the couch where Fred and George were sitting.

"I'll give you a little hint," she said, feeling brave, "this one is George." She kissed George tenderly below his ear, where his telltale scar was. She felt a shudder go through his body and smiled over his head at Grace. Fred raised his eyebrow suspiciously at his brother. George had said things were "going well" between him and Hermione, but Fred had not guessed they were at a licking-each-other's-scars phase. George blushed wildly which made everyone else in the room laugh. Hermione gathered her coat and luggage bag containing her change of clothes and toiletries.

"Have a good time. I'll see you Monday at work, unless you need to pop by Sunday when you get home. Good luck Mione," Grace said as she hugged her tightly before apparating out with Sugar, who was staying at Grace's while Hermione was away. Hermione nervously led George and Fred out of her apartment, locking it tightly behind her. George took her bag from her and Hermione linked her arm through his. Feeling left out, Fred linked his arm through her unoccupied one and they made their way to the train station.

A/N: Here's another update for you all! It's longer so I hope you enjoy it. What happens at the Burrow is next! Yay! It's about time, isn't it? Hehe, anyways, I'm off to the new IKEA that opened in Frisco, so hopefully you will all read and review so I have something nice to come home to! Thanks! Love you all!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. tear.

**Chapter 14: The Burrow **(finally!)

Hermione, George, and Fred walked quietly, side by side, down the path leading from Ottery St. Catchpole to the Burrow as their bags floated lazily behind them. George squeezed Hermione's hand reassuringly from time to time and smiled encouragingly at her. She tried to muster up a smile in return.

"Hermione, you're looking quite peaky, are you going to be ok?" George asked as they neared the entrance to the Burrow.

"I think I might throw up," Hermione croaked back. George cringed, sincerely hoping she was not about to throw up right here on their front lawn.

"Listen, I'll take our bags in and tell Mum we're here while you guys take a moment," Fred said. Hermione shot him an appreciative glance. George took her in his arms as she managed a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"Everything is going to be fine, Hermione. She's going to be so excited to see you, I swear. She doesn't have any hard feelings towards you, I promise," he whispered in a soothing voice. She nodded up at him signaling that she was ready to go up to the house, but her eyes screamed "get me out of here." He chose to ignore her great big scared eyes and pushed her slightly ahead of him down the path. When George and Hermione were only steps away from the door they dropped each other's hands. They had agreed ahead of time that today was definitely not the time to tell everyone they were in a relationship. Hermione took another deep breath as George reached out to open the door. He was saved the trouble, though, when it was flung open by Mrs. Weasley herself. She had a wide, welcoming smile on her face, which seemed to slide off the second she saw Hermione.

"You're marrying Hermione!" She shouted. Hermione's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as she looked from George to Mrs. Weasley and back to George. He didn't even seem phased by his mother's strange outburst.

"Mum, I told you I'm not marrying anyone at the moment. I insisted that I was just bringing a _friend_. And now look what you've done. You got so excited about some silly fictional marriage that you've barely noticed Hermione," George scolded. Hermione was blushing tremendously and looking at her feet. Suddenly she was pulled into one of her trademark bone-crushing hugs while Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. Hermione patted Molly awkwardly on the back as the older woman's body was racked with sobs. She was trying to say something which Hermione could just barely make-out as "I'm sorry, so sorry." This made Hermione even more uncomfortable, as she definitely was the one who should have been apologizing. Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes at seeing Molly Weasley in this state. With a final sniff, the older woman pushed Hermione away, holding her at an arm's distance and looking at her appraisingly.

"Oh Hermione, you're beautiful," Mrs. Weasley gushed. Hermione blushed as George looked at her proudly. "Please come in dear, we have so much to talk about," she said pulling her across the threshold and back towards the kitchen. George and Fred followed, giving each other a relieved smile. Once the four of them joined a very surprised Arthur at the kitchen table and helped themselves to cups of tea, they began telling the story of how Hermione and George met up, leaving out the romantic details, of course.

When the story had been told from start to finish, Hermione felt a great weight lifted off her shoulders. It was very strange to be back in the Burrow after so many years, but so little had changed. She knew Molly kept the sugar in the blue canister that had been broken and glued back together too many times to count. She knew that the spoons were kept in the second drawer on the left. She even knew the tiny corner where Molly kept the chocolate éclairs hidden in case a very special guest happened to drop by, though she never guessed she would ever be that very special guest. Hermione smiled to herself, feeling more at home in the Burrow than she had ever felt in her little flat in London. Unfortunately, she was pulled from her reverie by a noise from the clock on the kitchen wall. More hands had been added, she noticed, for Fleur and Penelope, even one for Harry, who was not yet, officially part of the family.

"Oh dear. Traveling?" Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Ginny and Harry's hands. "Oh Hermione, love, are you ready for this?" she asked apprehensively. Hermione paled a little but gave a weak nod.

"Maybe Fred and I could go in and warn them. Tell them that Hermione is here and then let them come in and greet her. That might prevent any sort of volatile reactions," George said. Hermione winced at the "volatile reactions" part, but nodded, giving her consent. She watched the twins walk out of the kitchen towards the front door, ready to greet Harry and Ginny with their big news. Hermione went to work chewing her fingernails voraciously while Mrs. Weasley rubbed her back. Suddenly they heard Harry's voice (oh how she'd missed it!) scream "WHAT?" and a second later the kitchen door banged open and Ginny threw herself into Hermione's arms. They held each other for a moment, tears running down both their faces.

"Congratulations on completing your training," Hermione said when she got a hold on herself, remembering that this day was about Ginny, not her.

"Oh who cares about that?" Ginny laughed, "I just can't believe you're here!" Harry slipped into the kitchen quietly and hung back shyly. Hermione smiled at him uncertainly.

"Hi Harry," Hermione said in a soft voice, barely above a whisper.

"Hey Hermione," he answered back, moving across the kitchen to hug her somewhat bashfully. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, breathing in his scent deeply. She pulled away and looked, teary-eyed, into his big emerald eyes. She'd honestly never thought she'd see them again. Ginny stepped over and wrapped both of them in her arms. Smiling, George wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist from behind and rested his chin on her head.

"Awww, I just can't resist a group hug," Fred said as he weaseled his way into the center of the bunch. With a laugh Arthur and Molly Weasley also headed over to wrap their arms around the kids. With all the hugging, crying, and laughing, no one seemed to notice that Ron's hand on the clock had gone from "working" to "traveling" to "home."

"Hey guys, what's with all the hugging?" Ron said as he came into the kitchen, slinging his cloak over a kitchen chair. The group separated a little to reveal Hermione standing there, looking extremely uncomfortable. Ron's chin dropped as he caught sight of her.

"Hi Ron," Hermione said shyly. For several moments Ron could not find his voice and made odd choking noises.

"Hermione," he managed to spit out.

Ron definitely did not intend to hug Hermione. He didn't particularly want to touch her at all, but when she flung herself at him and clung to him like her life depended on it, he could not help but hug her back. When she finally pulled out of the hug, Ron's t-shirt was soaked through with her tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried. He really didn't know what to do and looked up at Harry for some sort of answer. Harry shrugged, quite uncertain how to deal with the situation himself. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley took control of the situation.

"Ok, ok dear. Why don't we all sit down and discuss this? I'm sure Ron, Harry, and Ginny have a lot of questions for you," she suggested as she guided Hermione to a chair at the table. Ginny and Harry sat down eagerly, but Ron walked over a little more tentatively, letting Hermione's presence in his kitchen again sink in. Since Fred had already heard the story once that day (not to mention, having lived it) he accompanied his father into the backyard to check on the barbecue. George stayed behind, however, and sat next to Hermione, inconspicuously rubbing her knee supportively under the table. As Hermione began her story with a shaking voice, Ginny shot George a strange look across the table. Though he was quite sure she could not see his hand on Hermione's knee, he removed it hastily.

When Hermione finished telling her story for the second time in one day, Harry leaned back in his chair giving a low whistle.

"Wow, what are the odds that your friend would randomly invite both you and George to her party?" Harry asked, obviously amazed at the coincidence. Hermione had conveniently left out the part where Grace was trying to set her up with George but George gave her a knowing smile. Ginny raised her eyebrows suspiciously at the pair, nearly making Hermione blush. She willed the heat out of her cheeks, knowing if she blushed she would give herself away. Luckily, Ginny's probing glance was broken when two young children came skipping through the kitchen door followed by Penelope and Percy.

"Ah, hello, Hermione," Percy said shaking her hand heartily. Realizing everyone was probably befuddled by his lack of surprise he explained, "Dad told me everything when we came in." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; glad she wouldn't have to tell the story again. Penelope greeted Hermione warmly, always glad to have an extra female around the Weasley home, and introduced her children, who were entirely too well behaved for their age. When Bill and Fleur arrived a few moments later, the attention shifted from Hermione to Ginny, for whom the party was actually planned, and the group moved out to the backyard.

A few hours later a very exhausted Hermione collapsed onto the couch in the Weasley's living room. Ginny and Harry dropped, one on top of the other, onto an overstuffed chair. Ron looked around awkwardly before sitting next to Hermione on the couch. He still was uncertain how to act around her.

"It's ok, Ron," she reassured him. Not really knowing what to say to each other, they both looked across the room to where Harry and Ginny were snuggled up together, grinning madly.

"So how long have you two been…like this?" Hermione asked, suppressing a laugh.

"Oh you know, a while. I guess it just sorta happened one day," Harry said with a shrug. Grinny slapped him playfully.

"Yeah, 'one day' 3 years, 9 months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago," Ginny explained. Hermione grinned at her thinking she would get along quite well with Grace who was always ready to tell, nearly to the minute, how long she'd been with Max. Before Ginny could launch in to the very detailed account of her and Harry's romantic beginning, George appeared in the door to the living room. He lounged against the door frame admiring the scene for a moment before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

"Hermione, Fred and I were just heading back to our apartment in town. Did you want to come back to our place for the night?" He asked. Hermione's faced burned bright red, _could he be more obvious? _she thought.

"Um, no, I think I'm going to stay here tonight. Thanks though," she asked, trying to make herself sound quite confused by his suggestion. George shrugged and headed back to the kitchen to say his goodbyes.

"Merlin, he's possessive isn't he? Just because he happened to find you in London, he thinks he owns you or something," Ron piped up. Ginny shot him an amused look.

"You are so dense," she laughed. Hermione looked at Ginny alarmed. Of course, Ginny had known that Hermione and George were romantically involved approximately .5 seconds after she walked into the room. Assuming however, that they were keeping it secret for a reason, she'd kept her mouth shut. Still, George was doing a poor job concealing his feelings for Hermione. He had followed her around like a puppy the entire evening, pulling out chairs and fetching extra glasses of lemonade. Ginny was reminded of the way Percy had doted on Penelope when she was pregnant and for a split second feared that Hermione was in the same condition, but quickly regarded the thought. Hermione may have been glowing a little, but it certainly was not a puking-all-morning, swollen-ankles, bun-in-the-oven type of glow. Satisfied that it was only a reunited-with-long-lost-friends glow, Ginny faked a yawn and suggested going to bed. Hermione jumped at the suggestion, being quite exhausted from her emotional day and relieved that Ginny had not elaborated on her "you are so dense" comment. Harry and Ron followed tiredly up the stairs and split off at the top of the stairs as the girls headed to Ginny's room and the boys to Ron's, just like they were thirteen years old again.

A/N: Hurray! The Burrow chapter is finally up! I hope you all are as excited as I am about this. Hehe. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter and didn't mind the hugging solves everything attitude. I happened to be a great supporter of hugs. Oh, and Avanell, in response to your question: Frisco is a suburb of Dallas not far from where I live, although I definitely wish I was from San Francisco! Anyways, as always, please please read and review!


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything I love (except, I suppose, my puppy!)

**Chapter 15: Feigning Indifference**

After leading Hermione into her room, to which Mrs. Weasley had already added a bed, Ginny pushed the door shut deliberately and then rounded on Hermione with a maniacal gleam in her eyes.

"Tell me everything. I want to know every single detail," Ginny squealed. Hermione blushed so red that it rivaled the color of Ginny's hair.

"I suppose you know then?" Hermione mumbled.

"Oh Hermione, you're lucky this family is full of men, very dense unobservant men, otherwise we'd all know by now. I'm fairly certain Fleur knows already and Penny would know if it wasn't for all the attention she pays to her children," Ginny explained, settling herself on her bed.

"What about, your-your Mum?" Hermione stuttered a little, hoping against hope that Mrs. Weasley's observational powers had dulled in the past six years. Ginny chuckled a little.

"Welll, considering that she was expecting George to bring home his fiancée and then was rudely informed otherwise, she might be trying to convince herself what we witnessed all day between you two is just a figment of her imagination…however, she does have a highly proned love detector," Ginny explained. Hermione giggled before remembering that it was her love Mrs. Weasley was bound to detect.

"Oh shit, Gin, what will we do? We didn't want anyone to find out," Hermione said, collapsing on the bed next to Ginny's.

"Well maybe you should have reminded George of that before he asked you to come sleep with him at his place," Hermione threw a pillow at the smirking red head, which Ginny only hugged to her chest dreamily. "I can't believe it, you and my brother. Merlin Hermione! I can't even believe you're here. I know it's been six years since we last slept in this room giggling all night long about Ron and Harry, but it feels like yesterday. What's happened to you in the last six years? Tell me everything, please? I've missed you so much!" Ginny sighed deeply. Hermione crossed the room and settled next to Ginny on her bed, leaning against the headboard like old times, and launched into the story of what happened after she'd left the Burrow six years ago.

Two floors up, Harry and Ron plopped onto their own beds. Ron scratched his head thoughtfully.

"It's weird, isn't it? Mione popping up like this again. I feel eighteen years old all over again," Ron said to Harry.

"What do you mean eighteen all over again? You don't…" Harry paused, trying to gauge the reaction from Ron, "you don't still fancy her do you? I mean you don't want to try and get back together with her, do you?" Harry asked worriedly. Admittedly, he was just as dense as the rest of the Weasley men, but after catching Ginny staring openly at Hermione and George all through dinner he was starting to wonder himself. This was only perpetuated by George asking Hermione to go back to his apartment with him. Either Harry was terribly jumping to conclusions (it wouldn't be the first time, after all) or Hermione and George were romantically involved. However, Harry was quite certain that George's youngest brother was, as always, blissfully ignorant. At the moment, Ron was blushing slightly at Harry's question.

"No, I don't want to get together with her again or anything. Believe me, that ship has definitely sailed. Not that it wouldn't be nice. I mean she looks bloody beautiful. But right now I think we need to go back to being friends. Now lets say in a few months she just can't help herself and flings herself upon me with unbridled passion, well I couldn't say no to that, right?" Ron reasoned.

"Erm, yeah, ok," Harry muttered, hoping Ron would not get his hopes up. Harry and Ron, being boys, pretty much felt like that little conversation summed up everything they needed to say in regards to Hermione's arrival, climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep. Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny chatted animatedly until the wee hours of the morning in the room two floors below.

The next day, Saturday, passed with little incidence. The boys (or men, as they insisted on being called these days) started a game of Quidditch which lasted from early afternoon until well into the night, only pausing to scarf down some of Molly's fried chicken for dinner. This allowed Hermione to stay entirely away from George, and Molly's watchful eye, all day. Even so, Hermione had pulled him aside when he had shown up that morning and scolded him for his lack of discretion the day before. When the Quidditch game finally ended, George and his brothers trudged back up to the house, reliving their moments of glory that afternoon. Hermione could not help but smile to herself at the sight George's disheveled hair, sweaty clothes, and bright red cheeks. She even allowed him to pull her away from the knot of gossiping women and take a walk through the garden, despite her own warnings that morning.

"Gosh Hermione I have missed you," George said, sweeping her up in a hug.

"_George_," Hermione hissed, "What are you doing? What if someone sees?"

"What, you think they're all crowded around the window watching us?" George asked sarcastically.

"They very well could be," Hermione hissed again, obviously missing the sarcasm in his voice.

"Well, if that's so, they're in for quite the show," George murmured as he swooped down on her, capturing her mouth with his. She pulled away from him but he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pressing her hips into his.

"Ok, ok, you win," she mumbled crossly, before surrendering to his kisses. When he was apparently finished kissing her, she hugged him with a sigh.

"What is it Pumpkin?" He asked, stroking her hair. She giggled at his pet name for her.

"I can't believe I let you bring me back here," she murmured.

"You're doing so great Hermione. You've been unbelievable. I am so proud of you." He smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling in the dark. "In fact, I think you deserve a reward." He said mischievously.

"Oh? A reward? What kind of reward Mr. Weasley," she chuckled as her mind roamed to all sorts of "rewards" he could bestow on her.

"Have you ever been to the zoo?" He asked.

"The _zoo_! Is that the reward you're suggesting? I was sort of thinking it would be something that _grown-ups_ do for fun, not _seven year olds_," she teased, well it was more half-teasing. She really had had other things in mind.

"Oh Hermione you have obviously never been to the zoo properly if you think it's not grown-up fun," George joked back.

"George!" She scolded, "there are _children _there!"

"Hermione! What kind of pervert do you take me for? That is _not_ what I was suggesting. All I'm saying is that wizard zoos are fun for people of all ages, unlike those lame muggle zoos."

"Wait, wizards have their own type of zoo?" Hermione asked. This certainly was news to her.

"It's true, my dear. There's more to the wizarding world than what's written in _Hogwarts, A History_. And tomorrow afternoon I am going to take you to the best wizard zoo around. Just you wait." With a final kiss to solidify their plans, George marched out of their secluded corner of the garden and towards the house, with Hermione hurrying to catch up.

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you don't mind that I sort of breezed through the rest of the weekend. However, the next chapter will be full of fluffy zoo romance. Even at the old age of 20 (nearly 21!) I adore the zoo. I went there just last week actually with my boyfriend. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter, though I know it was short. Please read and review as always. I love reading your reviews! Thanks!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Not mine.

**Chapter 16: The Zoo: Part 1**

Hermione woke up the following morning feeling entirely rested and content. The sun was bursting into Ginny's bedroom and Hermione could hear birds singing just outside her window.

"Morning sleepyhead," a very familiar voice whispered in to Hermione's ear. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

"George! What are you doing in here? What if someone catches you!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

"Oh Mione, you worry too much. Ginny's in the shower and no one else even knows I'm here. I apparated directly in," he whispered, kissing her forehead tenderly, "Are you ready for our big day at the zoo?"

"Well, not exactly. I am still in my pajamas you know," she pointed out. George surveyed her appearance with a smile.

"It's alright, I don't mind. These pajamas are perfect zoo attire," he told her pinching the little sliver of exposed stomach between her tight pink tank top and plaid boxer shorts.

"Georgeee," she groaned, embarrassed that he was acting this way while his mother was busy making breakfast a mere two floors below. She wriggled away from his tickling fingers but he scooped her up as she flailed about trying to suppress her exploding laughter. He held her tighter to his chest until she relaxed against him, settling her head on his shoulder and giving a little sigh. As he leaned over to kiss her, Ginny's door was flung open. George dropped his hold on Hermione, trying to muster some sort of innocent expression, as she was dumped ungracefully onto the bed. To Hermione's relief, however, it was only Ginny at the door. Still, Ginny was blushing horribly and backed out of the door mumbling incoherently,

"Oh my gosh you guys, I am so sorry. I'll just go back…to the bathroom. Yeah I left something there,"

"No Ginny, wait!" Hermione cried as she leapt towards the closing door. "It's really alright, we weren't doing anything. You can come in." Ginny blushed deeper but entered her room. She gave her brother a tentative, albeit bashful, smile and picked up a brush, running it forcefully through her wet, tangled hair. George seemed to finally unfreeze.

"Yeah Ginny, don't worry, I was just up here because, because she was having a nightmare. I heard her screaming and ran up to investigate. And I had to hold her like that to calm her down. You know, girls and their silly nightmares." Ginny raised her eyebrows suspiciously at her older brother who was quite oblivious to her reaction. He shot Hermione a grin and the thumbs-up sign as if to say "don't worry, I've got this covered." Hermione had to suppress her laughter.

"Um, ok George," Ginny answered, shooting a smile at Hermione.

"Um, George," Hermione said, returning Ginny's smile, "she knows."

"Knows what Hermione? About your chronic nightmares?" He asked, trying to appear innocent.

"I have no idea whether or not Hermione suffers from chronic nightmares. I presume _you_ would be the expert on that, George, seeing as how you're the one sleeping with her these days," Ginny said tactlessly. Both George and Hermione's mouths dropped.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed, turning to face her with an accusing glare.

"Ginny!" She exclaimed, hands flying to her hips in a haughty manner.

"What?" Ginny laughed. "Look George, I forced her tell me. _And_ I never would have done that if it weren't for your absolutely blatant adoration of her the last few days. The next time you want to hide a relationship, try not to ask her to come sleep with you at your place in the middle of the living room," she finished triumphantly. George hung his head, looking quite sheepish. "Well, now that I've thoroughly embarrassed you both, I think I'm off to see what's for breakfast," she announced. She headed for the door before being stopped by George.

"Hey Gin?" He asked tentatively.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I won't tell anyone. My lips are completely sealed," Ginny reassured him. As she pulled the door shut, though, she smiled devilishly and whispered to herself, "for now."

When the door clicked shut, Hermione looked at George tremulously.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" She asked. She was biting her lip in a deliciously cute sort of way, George noticed, which, of course, meant there was no way he could be mad at her.

"Nah, she knew anyways. But did you have to tell her _everything_?" He asked, kissing the tip of her nose. She giggled a little.

"Yes," she answered simply. George sighed. "Now do you think you could leave me alone so I can get ready for the zoo?" George nodded and, after kissing her, apparated outside so he could walk through the front door as if he had not been upstairs in his sister's room for a good 15 minutes kissing Hermione.

When Hermione arrived downstairs half an hour later freshly showered and dressed for the zoo (at least she hoped she was dressed appropriately for the zoo, she was not exactly certain of the proper attire), George was relaxing in the kitchen with the rest of his family. When he looked up at her, his eyes brightened considerably. He was downright beaming, and though Hermione should have probably begged him to tone it down with her eyes, she was proud of the effect she had on him. Though Ginny gave Hermione a knowing smile, and Harry looked at George suspiciously through narrowed eyes, Ron continued shoveling food into his mouth like it was his last meal, barely noticing Hermione's arrival in the kitchen. Though Hermione had been out of practice at interpreting his food-muffled questions, she finally decided he was asking her what she wanted to do that day. Hermione smiled inwardly, glad that Ron had not seemed to change at all in the last six years, at least as far as table manners were concerned. Sharing what she hoped was an inconspicuous look with George, Hermione realized she would have to break the news to Ron and Harry that she had other plans that day.

"Actually, Ron, I already agreed to visit the zoo with George this afternoon," Hermione said quietly.

"So what?" He said through a mouthful of eggs, "Just tell him you'd rather hang out with us. I'm sure you don't really want to spend any more time with him anyways," Ron pointed out. George looked offended and reached over to punch his brother in the arm with an indignant "Hey!"

"Oy, when did you get here?" Ron asked, looking quite surprised to see George sitting there. Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Maybe if you weren't so intent on eating everything in sight you would have already noticed that Hermione and George- hey that hurts!" Ginny exclaimed as Hermione stomped hard on her foot and George kicked her in the shin from across the table. Ron had already turned back to his breakfast and didn't even notice Ginny's near slip.

"Ron," Hermione said, trying to bring his attention back to the conversation at hand, "I've already made plans with George for this afternoon, but we'll be back before the train leaves," she promised. Ron shrugged and Hermione looked exasperatedly at Ginny.

"Shall we go then?" George asked, rising from his chair. Hermione nodded a little and followed him from the kitchen, waving goodbye to Ginny and promising to see them before going home.

As George and Hermione walked out the door of the Burrow and up the path to St. Ottery Catchpole, something dawned on Hermione.

"How exactly are we getting to this zoo?" She asked him.

"Oh we'll walk. It's not far at all. It's in the village," he told her. She looked at him skeptically.

"It is?" She asked. He nodded. "But what about all the muggles? Won't they see?" Hermione asked doubtfully. George laughed.

"Oh Hermione haven't you learned anything? Just trust me, ok?" He looked down at her so sweetly that Hermione ignored all logic and smiled up at him.

As they walked through the sweet little town of St. Ottery Catchpole, George seemed to float on air. Hermione couldn't help but be amused by how excited George was about the zoo. Quite suddenly, George stopped in front a tall lamppost, looking triumphant.

"Erm, what's going on?" Hermione asked uncertainly. George poked a yellowed, frayed poster that was tacked crookedly to the lamppost, announcing that some poor little pup had gone missing and displaying a number to call in case he was found. It looked terribly updated.

"A lost dog?" She asked uncertainly. George smiled mysteriously and glanced at his watch. He raised his hand (and Hermione's little one clutched within his) and rested it on the poster as the bell tower in the square struck 11 o'clock. Suddenly Hermione felt the uncomfortable tug behind her navel as she was jerked from the ground by the port key and deposited rather unceremoniously in front of a looming wrought iron fence, which read "The Wizard Zoo" in curling letters. Positively surprised by this turn of events, Hermione looked over to George and gave him her warmest smile.

A/N: Hi y'all I hope you're not disappointed by this chapter at all. I know I promised the zoo in this chapter but it just got a little too long to add the whole zoo experience in. I promise the real zoo is up next! As always, please read and review and let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17 finally

Disclaimer: I may have been missing in action in the fan fic world for a couple months, but I still don't own Harry Potter.

**Chapter 17: The Zoo (finally)**

"Oh George," Hermione said in awe as she looked around at the sprawling zoo. He chuckled, understanding her excitement.

"I bet you had no idea there was so much of the wizard world you knew nothing about. Thought you had it all figured out, didn't you?" George teased, smiling down at Hermione. She laughed good-naturedly as they set off down one path. They passed cage after cage of creatures, some familiar, some completely new, and a few invisible. Hermione and George paused in front of one habitat where an ape-like, silky haired creature flickered between visibility and invisibility. Hermione hurried over to the placard labeling the creature as a "Demiguise" and giving information about its natural habitat and magical uses. Further along the path, they passed a petting zoo where little girls clustered around a beautiful, majestic unicorn. They hurried, hand in hand, past an exhibit of magical bugs, which made Hermione shudder and explain that she hated bugs (they made her feel itchy just looking at them).

Up ahead they saw a building, which Hermione would compare to the muggle aquarium. There was a variety of brightly colored fish swimming gracefully through walls made of water. On a placard, Hermione read the names of various fish and water creatures: plimpies, remoras, shrakes, and even grindylows. She chuckled to herself when she read about the shrakes' uncanny habit of destroying muggle fishing nets. A large gasp issued from Hermione when she read one particularly interesting placard.

"What is it?" George asked her.

"It's real!" She exclaimed, still eagerly reading the information provided.

"Um, what's real?" George asked again, obviously bewildered.

"The Loch Ness monster!" She squealed.

"Well of course it's real. Don't muggles know that?" George asked her.

"Well they do, sort of. Most people just think it's a myth or something. They have no idea that kelpies _actually_ exist. Wow, wait till my dad finds out about this," Hermione exclaimed. George laughed at the glow of excitement in her eyes and couldn't resist pulling her close into a hug and kissing her hair.

"If you think this is exciting, wait till you see the Griffins. They were always my favorite as a kid," George said, pulling her out of the marine animal building.

"Aw," Hermione laughed, "always a Gryffindor at heart, weren't you?" He gave her his most winning smile and tugged her down one of the winding paths lined with zoo exhibits. About halfway there they nearly collided with a little boy running helter-skelter in front of his mother.

"Isaiah! Watch where you're going!" The woman, presumably his mother, shouted tensely. There was a blond haired, pigtailed girl attached to the woman's arm, pleading for one last look at the unicorns. The woman also pushed a baby stroller with a whimpering baby inside. A diaper bag hung haphazardly from her shoulder, threatening to spill its contents on the sidewalk.

"Oh, it's ok, no problem," Hermione said, mustering up a sympathetic smile for the overwhelmed woman. There was something familiar about her, actually. "Lavender?" The woman's head popped up from where she was digging through her diaper bag.

"Hermione? Is that you?" Hermione nodded, not quite sure how to react. It had been a long time since she'd seen her former dorm-mate, and they had not exactly been on good terms considering all that had happened with Ron that year. The thought made Hermione blush a little but she willed herself to forget the awkwardness of their past.

"How are you? Are these, um, your kids?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Um, yeah, this is Isaiah, Emily, and little Christopher," she said pointing at each child in turn.

"Mommy, I want to _seee_ the unicorns," Emily whined, tugging at her mother's hand. Lavender managed a tight smile.

"Hold on _please_, mommy is talking to some friends," Lavender scolded the girl. She turned to Hermione and George, who had remained mute thus far, with a smile. "So what are you doing here with one of Ron's brothers Hermione?" Hermione's eyes sprung open in wide surprise, so much for forgetting the past, she thought. How in the world was she supposed to answer this one? Luckily George rescued her, gallantly stepping in to shake Lavender's hand.

"I'm George. Hermione and I are seeing each other, actually." It would have been hard to decipher who was more surprised by this statement, Lavender or Hermione. They had not even told his family yet and here he was blabbing the biggest gossip Hermione had ever met. She managed a nervous smile in the direction of Lavender, not really daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, I see," Lavender said primly. "I suppose I just assumed that you and Ron had gotten married. You just seemed sooo in love. What a pity." Hermione was suddenly overcome with the desire to hit Lavender, hard. George, seeming to sense this, put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and beamed at Lavender. "Well, I really ought to be off, Emily just loves those unicorns. Enjoy the rest your day," Lavender said pristinely before maneuvering the stroller past Hermione and George.

"Well, that was delightful," George said once Lavender was out of earshot. Hermione looked at him incredulously before realizing that he was only joking.

"Oh what a pity, you seemed sooo in love," Hermione said in a high-pitched voice, mimicking Lavender. "She disgusts me," she announced grouchily. George smiled down at her empathetically.

"Feel like calling it a day?" He asked, though they had not even made it to the griffins. Hermione nodded emphatically.

"That horrible, spiteful woman has ruined the zoo for me," she said.

"Oh poor little Hermione, do you want to go pet the unicorns before we leave?" George said a patronizing voice.

"Hush!" Hermione said, now laughing. They walked arm in arm out of the zoo and used a return portkey to make it back to Ottery St. Catchpole.

A/N: Oh guys, I am a horrible fan fiction writer. I am so sorry that it has taken this long, I've had a busy last couple months with moving to Illinois and starting my junior year of college. I hope you like this chapter. Thanks for sticking with me! Although I planned for this to go on much longer, I think I will finish it up after a few more chapters (I already have the last chapter written). If you'd like, review, perhaps it'll motive me to pop out another chapter soon! Oh, and any info about the magical creatures came from the Harry Potter Lexicon.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Alas, I still don't own Harry Potter, though my boyfriend is bringing me an adorable Harry Potter poster for my 21st birthday tomorrow:)

**Chapter 18: A Long Walk Home**

Hermione and George meandered through the streets of Ottery St. Catchpole slowly, not particularly wanting to return to the Burrow where they had to keep up their lies and deception. At the moment George was tracing patterns on Hermione's bare upper arm and she really didn't want him to stop. She wanted to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace surrounded by his family leaning slightly on his shoulder while he wound some of her long curls around his fingers, not hiding in the slightest bit their relationship.

"Do you think we should tell them?" She asked, looking up sweetly into his blue eyes. The expression on her face was so angelic that he wanted to kiss her, and he did.

"Tell who?" He asked, batting his eyelashes a little, playing dumb. She groaned.

"You know," she insisted.

"Don't they already know?" George asked. He did sort of have a point. Fred knew. Ginny definitely knew, which meant Harry probably did as well. Fleur had been beaming at Hermione suspiciously the whole weekend and even Penelope had winked at Hermione as they were heading out the door to the zoo. And if Hermione's suspicions were correct, Ginny definitely could not have let the day go by without gossiping about the situation to her mother. That really only left one person.

"Should we tell _him_?" She asked.

"I really don't see why we should. We could pretty much do whatever we wanted and he wouldn't even notice. I don't think you realize just how dense he can really be," George pointed out. Hermione stopped walking and put her hands, resolutely, on her hips.

"George Weasley, we have got to tell him sometime. And I, for one, think the sooner the better." She insisted.

"But we don't even really have time today," he pointed out, "We've got to leave on the train in two hours." He did have a point there, she conceded to herself. Though he usually met with the Hogsmeade division of the company on Mondays with Fred, he had agreed to escort Hermione back to London, while Fred stayed behind for the meeting.

"Why can't we just floo?" She asked, "Or apparate even?"

"Hermione, have you ever tried to apparating three hours away? I think you'd be pretty upset if either of us left any vital body parts behind," he said with a cheeky grin. Hermione blushed at the insinuation.

"Ok, ok, you win. But you have completely avoided the _real_ issue at hand. Ron." Hermione stated. They had resumed walking and were getting dangerously close to the Burrow. She wanted to have this resolved before they got there and missed their opportunity.

"Well what are we supposed to say? 'Hey Ron, I'm screwing your best friend and the girl you wanted to marry. Now we've got to go before we miss our train. See ya around.'"

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of 'Ron, we've got to talk' and then maybe sit him down at the table and just explain that you and are seeing each other and we wanted to let him know because we respect him, but we'd like respect in return and the acceptance of our relationship," Hermione suggested.

"You've been planning that out from the very second we arrived, haven't you?" George said with a smile down at Hermione who was looking up hopefully at him.

"Erm, yeah," she admitted. He only chuckled at her and nuzzled his chin against her head.

"Stoppp," she whined, "you're making my hair frizzy." She tried to tidy it up, but she could feel the curls going out of control. He only laughed harder at her, which made her angry in a joking sort of way. She gave him a little push so he would stop messing her hair up further. Plus, they were coming up the walk now, and it wouldn't do for them to be seen with their arms around each other. Provoked by her playful shove, George scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder, and ran up the walk before depositing her onto the front step. She could not help but laugh a little at that, especially since being upside down had made her a little dizzy. The look of her standing there with her cheeks so flushed, her eyes dancing, and her hair wild was just too much for him to bear. He kissed her passionately, arms tight around her back to keep her from escaping. There was really no chance of that though, he realized after a moment, as she kissed him back deeply. They really were too wrapped up in each other to hear the tale-tell creak of the front door opening.

"What the BLOODY HELL is going on?" Ron screamed, standing there bewildered, obviously on his way to take the trash out before coming across his newly acquainted best friend and older brother snogging on the front step.

"Um, Ron? We have to talk," George said, looking at his brother worriedly. Ron turned around mutely, garbage bag still in his hand, and headed for the kitchen. George and Hermione followed. She was feeling quite sick to her stomach at the moment and she was completely livid.

"You _stole_ my line!" Hermione hissed. It was quite an irrational thing to be saying at that particular instant, but it was the first thing to pop into her head. George gave her a worried smile, eyes wide with uncertainty, but didn't respond.

The little entourage, led by a red-faced Ron and followed by two very bashful lovebirds, burst into the kitchen where, it seemed, everyone was already gathered. One look at the situation told everyone else in the room what was going on and they all cringed inwardly.

"George and Hermione! Snogging!" Ron shouted, apparently not cognizant enough to form a complete sentence. The kitchen was perfectly silent for a moment as everyone else in the family tried to muster a surprised expression on their face. Suddenly Fred leapt up from the table.

"No" He gasped in a very good imitation of utter shock, "you bastard!" And with that he slapped his twin across the face. There was a sharp intake of air as everyone in the room watched the scene unfold. A slightly triumphant look spread over Ron's face. Suddenly, Hermione burst out laughing. She really had not meant it. She really wanted to take the whole thing seriously, but she could not help it. Everyone's faces. Fred's outburst. It really was too much to bear.

"Hermione," Ron scolded, still utterly serious, "you have _changed_." The statement was so severe, so overdramatic, so like a soap opera, that Hermione just laughed harder. She was laughing so hard now that she was crying, and then the laughing stopped and it was just crying, and she was being hugged tightly and warmly by the arms that were becoming so familiar. She wanted to disappear into them. She was tempted to just apparate away with George, and no one would know where they had gone, and they could live happily ever after. However, practically speaking, the only pair of shoes that she owned that Grace would admit were quite adorable was upstairs in her overnight bag and she just couldn't give them up.

"Ron, we really have to talk," George repeated as he rubbed Hermione's trembling back. Hermione looked up at Ron desperately and relaxed further into George's arms when he nodded his head.

Arthur quickly conjured up a couple extra chairs and Ron, George, and Hermione sat down stiffly around the table. The rest of the family members sort of wondered if they should be present for the conversation, but they were all dying to hear the explanation first hand. In a trembling voice Hermione told the story of how her and George had met. This time though, she added all the details they had conveniently "forgotten" before: the daisies, the Raspberry Tearoom where she and FRED had had their first kiss, the kitten, and yes, even the infamous Cosmopolitan a mere week before. When she was finished, she looked around the table to see 4 dreamy eyed women staring back at her, having 'oooh'd and 'aww'd throughout the tale, they were completely elated. Then Hermione's eyes landed on Ron. He still looked dumbfounded. Everyone waited for Ron to speak first, to see how he would react. Clearing his throat deliberately, he finally managed some words,

"Well, are you in love?" He asked. Hermione's chin dropped and George's face flared up in the Weasley blush. Neither really knew what to say.

A/N: You are all lucky that I have a Greek Poetry midterm tomorrow and want to avoid studying for it at all costs! Thus, I have written a new chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one. I really appreciate all your encouragement and support. The reviews I received last time I updated were lovely, they really were. I'm sorry for those of you were less than happy with me for taking so long to update, or those of you who were disappointed by the last chapter. I hope this one (and the next) provide a little more excitement. As always, please read and review! Thanks!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I proudly claim Grace as my own, the rest belong to JKR.

**Chapter 19: First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage…**

Last time: "Well, are you in love?" Ron asked. Hermione's chin dropped and George's face flared up in the Weasley blush. Neither really knew what to say.

_How dare he ask such a thing_, Hermione thought furiously to herself. She and George had not even discussed this themselves, and here Ron was, demanding an answer to whether or not they were in love. And, it seemed everyone else was waiting for her answer too, as every pair of eyes in the entire room was staring expectantly at her. She tried to say something, but she wasn't sure what, so her mouth just opened and closed a little. Luckily, George saved her. He had a lovely way of doing that, really. He leaned over close and Hermione wondered what exactly he was doing.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, breath tickling her neck. Out loud, for the rest of the family to hear he said, "I thought maybe she should know before the rest of you lot find out, but yes, I do love her."

Hermione was melting. She was absolutely melting. Everyone was looking at her now, smiles plastered on their faces, expecting her to say or do _something_. She looked at George but she knew from the look on his face what he was thinking, what he was communicating to her through his eyes. There was no rush, she didn't have to say it if she didn't want to. But she did want to, but not to _them_. She turned in her chair so she was completely facing George and slipping her hands into his, she said "I love you too George." And then they kissed, the sweetest, most loving kiss you could ever imagine.

A collective "aw" went round the table, except for one who said "ugh, not at the dinner table!" Hermione broke her contact with George to look at Ron, who, of course, had been the announcer of "ugh, not at the dinner table!" Despite his statement of disgust, there were the beginnings of a smile on his face and a hint of acceptance in his eyes.

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She jumped up from her chair and hurried around the rather long table to the side where Ron was sitting.

"You're going to hug me again aren't you?" He asked rather exasperatedly, but with the smile rapidly growing.

"Yes, now stand up." He stood and she launched herself into his arms, leaving wet tear marks down the front of his shirt. He sighed.

"Look 'Mione," Ron said, pulling her away and looking her in the eye, "I love you and I've missed you so much these last six years. If this is what you want, if this is what makes you truly happy, then I'm glad for you. Just please don't go missing again." Hermione nodded her head in promise, but was hugging him again, holding on for dear life. "Oy George, you think you can do something about this?" Ron asked his older brother, wishing to be relieved of the sobbing woman clinging to his front. George came around the table and touched Hermione gently on the back. That was all it took for her to come into his arms and she cried into the nice green shirt she had picked out for him.

"Hermione, love? What's wrong?" He asked her, stroking her curly hair. She pulled back and her bottom lip quivered as she tried to form the words.

"I just-I just- love you all so much!" She finally burst out with a fresh wave of tears, looking around the room. George chuckled along with the rest of his family as he wiped her wet cheeks dry.

"We love you too Hermione," Ginny piped up with a smile. Hermione, now almost cried-out, nestled into George's chest.

"Are you ready to go now?" He whispered to her. He didn't mean to rush her, but the train was leaving in 15 minutes. She nodded her consent and, after another round of hugs, left the Burrow hand-in-hand with George.

xxx

"He said he LOVES you!" Grace squealed the next morning after Hermione was finished retelling the weekend in extremely minute detail.

"Yes, he loves me. HE loves ME. Oh my gosh, Grace, we're in love," Hermione exclaimed. When Hermione came in to work that morning Grace knew the weekend had gone well. She absolutely floated into work carrying a coffee and humming and she was positively glowing AND there was a hint of pink sweater peaking out of the neck of her robes. If Grace knew one thing absolutely positively it was this: Girls in L-O-V-E wear pink sweaters. Still, the story was too splendid to believe and Grace forced Hermione to repeat it seven more times throughout the day. Hermione was all too happy to tell it, again and again.

xxx

The next couple months went by like a dream. Being in love was a splendid thing, it really was. It was all pink and flowers and champagne and chocolates and nights spent playing Muggle games like Scrabble and Monopoly and afternoons (after Hermione's articles were done, of course) spent in the labs at WWW trying wacky new inventions and Saturdays at the Burrow. That was probably Hermione's favorite part, being part of a family again. As expected, Harry had proposed to Ginny after her completion of Healer training and the Burrow was abuzz with wedding plans. They didn't want to wait long to get married so they were planning a February wedding, which was right around the corner. Ginny had immediately asked Hermione to be her Maid of Honor so Hermione was swamped with decisions about flowers and colors and cake and whether her hair ought to be up or down or curled or braided or… sigh, Hermione really needed Grace for these sort of things.

The real problem that was beginning to arise was that Hermione was becoming more and more attached to the idea that she, one day, would probably be planning her own wedding. Several years ago, after several of Grace's failed match-making attempts, Hermione had reconciled to herself that she may never get married. She would just live in her tidy little flat and play Auntie to Grace and Max's kids. However, now that George had swept her off her feet, she'd fallen in love with the idea of her own wedding. She slowed down when she walked by jewelry stores with engagement rings sparkling in the windows. She went starry-eyed every time she saw Ginny trying on her wedding dress and she positively swooned when she saw the boys trying on tuxedo robes at Madam Malkin's. She was not the type of girl to drop silly, unsubtle hints but she had indeed stooped to that level. And every time she did so, George would feign ignorance while he was beaming on the inside. Little did she know that he had plans…big plans.

A/N: Well, here's another chapter for you all. Sorry it's taken so long…again. Well I'm nearly finished with this term and I've only got to take finals and then I'm home again in the good old Lone Star State. I have a week of break before I start classes again, so I hope to update again before too long. This story is really drawing to a close. The next chapter will probably be quite short, and then you'll get the ending, which will be spectacularly long and complicated and exciting like you won't believe (at least in my opinion, hehe). Thank you all for reading and sticking with me. As always, please review, I really appreciate it!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

**Chapter 20: Not Exactly What Hermione Was Expecting**

Hermione sat on George's lap in an overstuffed easy chair in the living room of the Burrow. He was playing with her hair, tying it up in "braids," though they were really just knots, and occasionally giving little kisses to the back of her shoulders. Hermione smiled and nodded as politely as she could as she listened to Penelope tell the story (for, perhaps, the twentieth time that night) of Carter's crush on a little witch down the street. It really was cute the first three or four or eight times she told it, but Hermione was getting sort of annoyed by it. In all actuality, Hermione was really ready to go home. She and George had shared a lovely Christmas day with the Weasley family, but all she could think about was the surprise George had warned her about as they were leaving Hermione's flat, which they pretty much shared these days. She was hoping her Christmas surprise would come in a tiny velvet box and involve something shiny and ring-finger sized. However, she was horribly afraid that it was nothing of the sort, seeing as how she'd stumbled across a rather large, garishly decorated box with her name on it in his linen closet the other day when she was searching for some clean bath towels. Unless there was a VERY large diamond ring lying in that box, she was out of luck as far as a Christmas marriage proposal went. Still, she was just dying to get home and find out. Finally, after several hours of telekinetically begging George to take her home, he got the picture. They excused themselves politely, hugging everyone once, and some even twice, and gathered up their presents to leave. Hermione headed towards the fireplace, knowing she could hardly apparate properly with the two glasses of red wine in her and an armful of presents, and George followed. He stopped her though as she reached into the pot of floo powder and whispered into her ear, "your place or mine?" in his most seductive voice. She laughed it off, despite the chill it sent down her spine.

"Erm, mine, I think. I've got some chocolate pie in the refrigerator to still finish off," she explained, though the real reason was that she preferred her own clean, nicely made bed to his, where the sheets had probably gone weeks without being washed and all his covers and pillows were thrown into a huge jumble in the middle. She did not say this out loud though, preferring that not all the Weasley's know just how well they knew each other. In essence, though, his place was really no place to be sleeping the night after getting engaged. Hermione's cheeks warmed up unconsciously at the thought, reminding her that she was not yet engaged.

"Alright, I've got to run by my place and grab something, but I'll be right over," George insisted as he nudged her towards the fireplace. As Hermione whirled home in the green flames, she repeated over and over in her head not to be disappointed if he didn't propose tonight at all. A minute later she heard the sound of him apparating into her living room and she knew she would absolutely be heartbroken if he didn't do it _sometime_.

"Hermione? Love?" He asked, looking around her empty living room. He peeked a head into the kitchen, where she was standing with a sort of forlorn expression on her face. "Ah, here you are. Getting some chocolate pie?" He asked, coming in and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Well, that was sort of just a front for the sake of your family," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and smiling up at him coyly. She suddenly felt very pretty in the new navy blue dress she was wearing, which hugged her hips and swished just above her knees, and the confidence spilled out through her sparkling eyes. She hoped she looked irresistible and very marry-able.

"Oh, I know, but I've been thinking about it ever since, and don't you think we could have a little bit?" The PIE? He'd been thinking about the PIE ever since. Hermione sighed, but nodded her head and moved to retrieve the pie from the refrigerator. "Maybe we could play a game of Scrabble while we eat?" He suggested, almost nervously. Hermione stiffened up. SCRABBLE? He wanted to play Scrabble instead of propose? What the hell was wrong with her? Here she was in the very expensive dress she'd allowed Grace to pick out which showed way too much cleavage and leg for her taste and probably was horribly obscene for Christmas day with the family all in a not-so-subtle ploy to get George to propose to her and here he was-proposing all right- proposing a nice game of Scrabble! Hermione gulped and tried to hide the hurt expression on her face and she turned around, pie in hand. She was disappointed to find George having already bounded into the living room to get the board ready.

As she settled down to another round of their favorite game, Hermione tried to remind herself that this was Christmas and she was spending it with the love of her life and diamond rings were nothing compared to the love she felt in her heart, but she was, all in all, having a hard time convincing herself. George was not oblivious, either, and he was becoming more and more nervous about giving Hermione her surprise. She seemed flustered, a little lackadaisical, and almost sad. For instance, she was not putting up nearly as much of a fight as usual about his array of made up words, which was beginning to worry him. Usually she insisted on using words that someone other than Fred and George had ever used before, though he always insisted he learned his entire vocabulary from Dumbledore himself. Rather than fighting back energetically, she was consenting to let him use whatever word he wanted. Was she falling out of love with him? Was he about to make a big mistake?

"Hot chocolate," George croaked suddenly. Hermione looked up in surprise from where she was adding the 124 points she'd just received for some word George had hardly heard of and could never use properly in a sentence. It was, in all truth, words like this that made him love her so desperately, though he'd never tell her that and risk sounding so ridiculous. However, he did manage to sound like a dying man in the desert begging for water with his plea for hot chocolate, which was little better.

"Excuse me?" She asked, looking perturbed. Why was he acting this way?

"Can you get me some hot chocolate, please?" He begged.

"Right now?" He nodded eagerly. "But we're in the middle of a game, George." But the look on his face was so…so, well she didn't know what it was, but it was irresistible so she picked herself up from the floor, where the board was set up,and headed to the kitchen.

"I'll just think of a word for when you get back ok?" George called to her retreating back and she nodded in response. As soon as her back disappeared completely into the kitchen, George set to work.

Meanwhile, Hermione took her time preparing the hot chocolate, making sure the temperature was just right, that there was just enough chocolate evenly distributed throughout, and even adding a candy cane to the side so it would melt and make it minty, just the way George liked it. Doing this made Hermione feel very domestic and calm and happy and she realized even without a ring on her finger, she could still act like George's wife and make him hot cocoa just the way he liked it. When the cocoa was finally perfect, she carried them into the living room, eyes carefully poised on the steaming mugs so as not to spill anything on her beige carpets. When she finally looked up to meet George's eye she was surprised to see him red-faced and looking quite guilty. She gave him a quizzical look.

"Did you cheat while I was away?" She asked him suspiciously, eyes lighting up a little. George breathed a little sigh of relief, _this_ was theHermione he knew. "Did you move the letters or change the numbers?" He shook his head resolutely but there was something so impish and mischievous in his eye that she knew something was up. "Well, did you play then? What'd you spell out? If it's whuzzit again, I'll not have it. I've asked everyone I know and none of them have ever heard of—" suddenly she was cut off from her mock tirade when she saw what he actually _had_ spelled out. "Oh, my." She whispered. There, in those wonderfully romantic wooden tiles, George had spelled out "Will you marry me." Hermione's heart nearly stopped. All the time she'd been in a horrible grumpy mood and he had been planning this! She nearly attacked him with kisses and a moment later he had to push her away and a troubled look crossed her face.

"Is that a yes then?" He asked and she wanted to slap him and kiss him all at the same time. She broke into the biggest smile he'd ever seen and nodded her answer, though she fully intended on answering with her lips. He pushed her away again, much to Hermione's frustration. "I suppose I ought to give you this then?" He slipped something from his jacket pocket and with trembling fingers pushed a ring up her finger. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, just to make sure it was real. Holding him tight in a fierce hug she whispered into his ear "Take me to bed." He pulled back in surprise.

"But what about the hot chocolate?" Her eyes clouded over and he laughed happily to see the pouty look on her face.

"George Weasley, you are insufferable!" She exclaimed.

"Ok, ok, if you insist," he said with a wink, scooping her up in his arms and taking her to the bedroom.

A/N: Well darling readers, here is another update for you. The next chapter will be THE END. Please prepare yourselves now for an INTENSE last chapter. Hehe. It really could be made into about 7 little chapters but I'm keeping it as one for a very good reason, which I will probably explain at the beginning of the next chapter. I really appreciate your dedication, support, and encouragement throughout this story. I'll try to get the next (and last) chapter up soon, as I'm just doing some tweaking of it. Please review! See you all very soon!


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of it.

A/N: Ok, so the reason why this last chapter is longer than the rest is because I didn't want to get you all furiously angry and then stop the chapter right there. The beginning of this chapter will probably shock you all, but PLEASE keep reading. I promise it will all be ok. I felt like I needed to say this because my little sister insisted that readers would absolutely quit reading when she heard about my plans for this story. Yes, this has been planned from the very outset, but really, I'm begging you, please stick it through to the end. Thanks and happy reading!

**Chapter 21: Happily Ever After?**

Hermione woke up with a start. She looked about the room, a little bewildered about her surroundings. The moonlight coming through the open window lit up one of the walls that was plastered with posters of the Weird Sisters and cute Quidditch players. Hermione's mouth went a little dry. She knew this room. She looked over to see a shock of red hair peeking out from the covers of the other bed. Ginny kicked her legs a bit and flipped over onto her side.

"Nooo," Hermione moaned as she kicked off her covers and looked down at herself. She no longer had her twenty-four year old self's body. For that matter, George's warm sturdy body was not curled up next to her, as he had been when she drifted off to sleep. She put a hand to her hair, which had been smooth and straight moments before. Instead, it was frizzy and extra bushy from being slept on. "A dream? A bloody dream?" Hermione said out loud.

Gasping for air, she ran out of Ginny's room and down the hall to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she tried to calm the rising panic. It had all been a dream, she told herself over and over. She did not, however, have any idea what was going on. Had Ron proposed to her? Was Voldemort dead? Nothing seemed real anymore. Finally regaining control of her ragged breathing she turned quickly to leave the bathroom and ran into something quite solid…and shirtless. She looked up in surprise and saw a very sleepy George looking down at her with an equally surprised expression on his face. She didn't have to look for his scar to know it was George. She'd been looking into those blue eyes for the last six months, well in the dream at least.

"Are you alright Hermione? It looks like you've seen a ghost. The ghoul from the attic didn't wake you up did he?" George asked tenderly. Hermione shook her head and bit her lip out of confusion and frustration with the situation.

"I just sort of, had a dream. That's all," she said nervously.

"A nightmare?" He asked. She tried to repress a smile at the sound of concern in his voice. After all, she reasoned with herself, this was not the same George that she had been slowly falling in love with over the last few months. He had just been a dream.

"Well, sort of," she responded. The dream itself had been wonderful, but waking up from it was pretty nightmarish. "What about you? What are you doing up?"

"I had a dream too, actually," George said smiling.

"George?" Hermione asked as she sat down on the toilet seat, toying with one of her unruly curls.

"Yeah?" He perched on the edge of the bathtub, so close to her that their knees were almost touching.

"Am I engaged to Ron?" She mumbled in a voice barely above a whisper.

"What? What would make you say that?" He grabbed her hand and she looked up at him hopefully, "You're not wearing a ring are you?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione said, blushing.

"Is that what your nightmare was about? Getting married to Ron?" He asked with a laugh.

"No, well yes, but no," Hermione stuttered. "Are we still dating? Ron and I?"

"_Still_ dating? If you ever were dating, that's news to me. And probably news to his girlfriend, Hannah, as well." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"What about Voldemort? Is he dead yet?" Hermione asked nervously, trying to piece together where in time she really was.

"Hermione you were there when Harry killed him. You fought against the Death Eaters. We were all there, don't you remember that?" George looked at her, obviously concerned by her odd behavior.

"Yes, well no, but I mean," she said, not making any sense. How could she explain to George that she had just been living a _very real_ dream in which Ron had proposed to her after Voldemort was killed? Suddenly a look of comprehension came over George's face.

"Come here," he said gently, pulling her off the toilet and on to the ledge next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in close to his very bare chest. Her heart fluttered crazily and she tried to think clearly. "The events of the last year, especially what happened a month and a half ago when Voldemort died, have been hard on everyone. You're not the only one with horrible memories, or the only one suffering nightmares of that night. You should know that better than anyone, what with the way Ginny thrashes about screaming in her sleep. You're not alone in your fear of him. But the point is, Voldemort is dead. You don't ever have to be afraid of him again. He can't hurt you now, I promise."

"Is that what you were dreaming about? Voldemort?" She asked him.

"No, I was dreaming about something a little…happier," he said smiling, the Weasley blush started to creep into his cheeks. He tucked a piece of her wild brown hair behind her ear, and she thought of something. She turned towards him and ran her finger down the jaw line below his ear. He looked at her surprised as the blush deepened.

"How did you get this scar?" She asked, looking deep into his blue eyes.

"When I was six Charlie beat me up for 'accidentally' taking his broom for a joyride and crashing it into the garage," George said with a sad smile.

"Oh," Hermione said, disappointed that it had nothing to do with dungbombs, Percy, or broken windows. Something suddenly dawned on her. If her dream hadn't been real then "Charlie! He's alive!"

"What? No, Hermione. He died, in the Final Battle. You were at his funeral. Don't you remember any of this?" George asked, shaking his head.

"I-I think I do. It's just this dream I was having. Everything was different. Every_one_ was different," she said with a sigh. She looked up into his eyes again, wishing that the dream had been real. He had been so wonderful in the dream, so grown up, so mature. But in real life he was just Ron's older brother, the prankster who dropped out of Hogwarts to start a joke shop, though it didn't seem so horrible as it once had.

"Tell me about it," George said, lost in thought about his own dream, apparently.

"It just seemed so…real," they both said in unison. They looked at each other with surprise and started to laugh. George looked down at Hermione, who was still sitting very close to him, shaking with laughter. This was not how she had been in his dream. She'd been more sophisticated, more prim and proper. But he liked this better, this tiny pajama-clad, bushy haired girl with dancing eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he tilted her chin upwards and kissed her gently on the lips. She did not recoil in disgust and her eyes did not even pop open in surprise. Instead, they just fluttered shut as she leaned in to kiss him back.

A few moments later, they drifted apart. It was not the sort of kiss that you spring back from wondering what in the world you were doing kissing your little brother's best friend. No, George thought, it was not like that at all. Instead, it was strangely reminiscent of the kisses he'd been sharing with her for the past couple months in a very realistic dream he'd just been having. And exactly how his dream self knew the way her tongue traced the top of his bottom row of teeth when she kissed, he was not exactly sure. But that was precisely what she'd been doing just a second before. In his middle of the night logic he chalked it up to her being the daughter of two dentists so she must be curious about teeth and of course his dream self would have known…and suddenly he very much lost that train of thought because she was kissing him again and her tongue was doing that thing with his teeth and the pink painted toes of her right foot were brushing up against his ankle and it made him tickle from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.

"Merlin, I've missed your kisses," George murmured as she moved her mouth to kiss along his jaw line. Her body went stiff and cold and she looked up at him with bewilderment.

"What?" she asked, drawing away from him. She started to shake and he wanted to bring her in close and keep her warm, but he was afraid of the peculiar expression on her face. _Shit_, he thought to himself. How was he supposed to explain this?

"Um," George gulped. Nothing clever was springing to mind. He was just lost.

"George," she said with a strange expression on her face. She was scooting further away from him and he just couldn't let her get away and forget this happened, he had to see. So he grabbed her hand and pulled her close.

"Hermione, I know this is going to sound insane but I just woke up from this amazing dream where you and I…we were _together_. I'm sorry, I know that's weird and completely inappropriate but sitting here kissing you feels so right because in this dream I'd been kissing you for months and you see just tonight, I mean, the night in the dream, right before I woke up, I'd, well I sorta proposed to you. I know that sounds so weird, please don't think I'm some sort of freak," George babbled nonsensically. Hermione's eyes were so round and afraid that he knew he'd made some sort of mistake. He never should have told her.

"Holy shit," she mumbled, right before launching herself into his arms and smothering him with kisses. He pulled away after a moment, laughing.

"And what do you think you're doing young lady?" George asked, glad that Hermione had not completely freaked out and ran away.

"George, I think we need to talk," she said with a smile. "Come on, I'll make some tea, I think it's going to be a long night." George smiled up at her as she took his hand and pulled him up from the bathtub ledge.

They settled onto the couch in the living room, steaming cups of tea in hand, and took turns telling each other bits and pieces of their very odd, and very similar dream. Of course, some bits were different, Hermione noted, somewhat sadly, but the essence was the same, not to mention the outcome: them being engaged. Both being slightly embarrassed by parts of the dream, the talk quickly moved to their own lives. Hermione told George about her life before Hogwarts and George told Hermione childhood stories about the mischief six little red headed boys can create. He also told her all about their booming business and she admitted how nervous she was to start her new job in London. At some point in the night George had put down his teacup and started tracing shapes on the thin skin of her inner wrist and by the time the sun was coming up she had settled into crook of his arm with her head leaning on his (still bare) chest.

"Hermione, love?" George said, shaking her slightly. He realized, too late, what had slipped out, but she didn't respond oddly so he just let it go, it had become habit really.

"Mmm?" She asked, stirring slightly. They'd stopped talking and were just dozing in each other's arms but George heard footsteps upstairs and figured they'd better get into their own rooms, or at least out to the breakfast table where they could feign innocence, before his mother came down.

"Do you want to head upstairs to bed before Mum comes down?" He asked her, running his fingers up and down her bare shoulders. She shook her head sleepily.

"I don't want to leave you," she mumbled, nuzzling her head into his shoulder and yawning.

"Alright…would you like to go to the kitchen then and have some tea and breakfast?" He asked.

"Yes, please." She said, though she made no move to get up. He laughed at her limp form and rustled around until he was in position to scoop her up and carry her to the kitchen. She seemed to awaken at the rush of being picked up and giggled as he plopped her into a kitchen chair.

"Thanks," she whispered, suddenly awake and suddenly shy.

"Hey Mione? Before the others come down, I was just wondering…um…do you want to go out tonight? Like on a date? Like our first _real_ date?" George asked, too bashful to meet her eye.

"Yes yes yes," Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. It was their first kiss since coming out of the stupor of their dream and it felt more real than any of the other kisses they'd shared in all the "months" of dating in their dreams. They pulled apart just in time to separate and inconspicuously start making some breakfast by the time Molly walked in. She was stunned, obviously, to find one of the twins, who so often just spent the night at the little flat above their shop, in the kitchen with Hermione so early in the morning, but it was sort of sweet and her mind began to float to all sorts of romantic possibilities. Though she intended to leave them alone as soon as humanly possible to foster their romantic relationship, little by little the rest of the family trickled down and they were forced to limit themselves to shy smiles and the occasionally brush of one foot against the other (though one time George missed and got Ron's by accident which made for a whole round of blushing and awkward questioning glances).

After breakfast was finished and everyone dispersed to shower (the girls), play Quidditch (the boys), clean the attic (Mrs. Weasley), and tend to the shop (Fred and George—but not without a small goodbye kiss on the cheek and a promise to pick Hermione up at 6), Hermione collapsed onto the cot in Ginny's bed with a sigh.

"What are you being all girly about?" Ginny asked with a knowing smile.

"Gin, I know this is going to sound totally weird, but I'm going on a date tonight…with George," Hermione said with a tentative smile.

"And why would that sound totally weird?" Ginny asked. Hermione looked at her in shock.

"Because…because…well I don't know. It's just weird. Aren't you supposed to say something about how this was never the brother you expected me to end up?" Hermione asked, bewildered as to Ginny's nonchalance.

"Well, I never expected anything serious to ever _actually_ happen with you and Ron. And it's not that I _expected_ this between you and George, but it's not _that_ unusual. You're the type of girl George _needs_. And Merlin knows George would be a good influence on you." Ginny said playfully.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked indignantly, chucking a pillow across the room at Ginny's head. She only giggled in response as she focused on braiding her hair in the mirror. Hermione sighed, swooning against her pillow. "Gin, I know this sounds bizarre and I can't get into all the details but I just have this feeling that things are really going to work between us." Ginny turned to look at her friend with a smile and couldn't help but rush across the room and give her a hug. She just loved when other people fell in love. "Do you want to go shopping with me this afternoon?" Hermione asked, an idea popping suddenly into her head.

"Have you ever known me to pass up a shopping trip?" Ginny said with a delicious grin, despite having a mound of schoolwork to complete before school started up in September again.

An hour later the two young girls tumbled out of a floo in Diagon Alley. Ginny started off in the vicinity of Madame Malkin's, but Hermione grabbed her arm and pulled her in an unfamiliar direction.

"Where are we going? I thought you'd just want to pick up some dress robes or something," Ginny asked, slightly bewildered.

"Actually, I'm going into Muggle London. I need some Muggle clothes." Hermione replied, quite calmly as she weaved her way through a trash-strewn alley and appeared on a street crowded with Muggles.

"Muggle clothes? Why? Does my dear old brother have a thing for girls in Muggle clothes?" Ginny asked with a slightly wicked grin.

"I really have no idea. All I know is that I'm looking for a very specific outfit," Hermione replied absentmindedly as she peered into store windows looking for the right type of clothing.

"A very specific outfit?" Ginny asked skeptically.

"Erm, yes…I saw it in…a magazine!" Hermione said, feeling quite triumphant for coming up with a logical explanation, as well as finding a store that seemed to carry just what she was looking for. The mannequins in the window were wearing flowery skirts and capris with matching cardigans and shells in a variety of pastel colors.

"Um, are you sure this it?" Ginny asked, surveying all the pink and lavender with a critical eye. It was not _exactly_ Hermione's typical style.

"Yes," Hermione said, making a beeline for a display of yellow and green skirts, retrieving a handful, and heading to the dressing room. Ten minutes later, Hermione reappeared in a yellow, green, and white striped skirt with a yellow cardigan.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, swirling around to let the skirt billow out.

"Well," Ginny began, trying to think of something nice to say, though she was unaccustomed to Muggle fashion trends, "you look a little like a daisy." She hoped that was a compliment. The smile on Hermione's face told her it was.

"Perfect." Hermione said and quickly changed into her other clothes to pay for her purchases.

After Hermione got all the essentials for her first date with George, she and Ginny wandered over to the Leaky Cauldron for drinks.

While they drank their butterbeers they discussed Ginny's upcoming last year at Hogwarts and Hermione's upcoming job at the Daily Prophet in London. In her mind, Hermione was secretly wondering about Grace. She had really liked dream-Grace and wished she really existed, but knew better than to hope she really did. The conversation turned to Ginny's indecision about what to do after Hogwarts. She was sticking with a pretty basic curriculum for her last year unlike many students who specialized according to their after-graduation plans.

"I guess I just like so many things, but none of them really seem fit for a job, you know?" Ginny asked as she took a sip of butterbeer. Hermione nodded her understanding.

"Somehow I can see you as a healer," she said, with a sly smile. Ginny looked up in surprise.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, you've always been so kind and caring and cheerful, not to mention cleaning up your brothers' injuries with your mum. You're a natural," Hermione explained. Ginny began to nod as the idea sunk in.

"Hey, you're sorta right. Maybe I should go into healing!" Ginny exclaimed. Hermione wondered if, after her healing training, she would get engaged to Harry, but kept quiet at the moment, not really knowing how prophetic her dream had been. "Maybe we ought to get home, we've only got an hour and a half before the big date," Ginny said with a giggle. Hermione blushed but gathered her bags and they floo'd back to the Burrow. When they arrived, Mrs. Weasley caught their attention as they ran up the stairs to Ginny's room.

"Oh Hermione, someone stopped by for you."

"Really? Who?" Hermione asked, wondering who it could have been.

"Some girl about your age. She said she was starting at the Daily Prophet next month as well and wanted to stop by and meet you. I just can't remember her name. I know I wrote it down on some little bit of parchment. It should be around here somewhere," Molly said as she rifled through a stack of paper.

"Grace?" Hermione asked in wonder.

"Yes! How ever did you know?" Molly asked in wonder.

"Just a lucky guess," Hermione said with a shrug. Ginny gave her a peculiar glance.

"Well, she said she would owl you sometime soon," Molly responded.

"Wonderful," Hermione said as she and Ginny headed up the steps.

After taking a shower and putting on her new daisy outfit, Ginny did her hair up in a small ponytail just like Hermione asked.

"There, you look great, spin around one more time," Ginny requested. Hermione complied, giggling the whole time. "Oh wait, I know just what you need." Ginny ran to her chest of drawers and, after a good 5 minutes of rifling through old clothes, pulled out a yellow ribbon to tie in Hermione's hair. "Ok, I think you're ready. And just in time, it's 6:00 now, do you want me to run down and see if he's here." Hermione nodded her head, suddenly very nervous, while Ginny ran downstairs. A moment later she reappeared in the door to her room. "He's here and he looks adorable. Except he's got…well, you'll see. I just hope you don't change your mind about him." Hermione looked worried but headed out the door and down the steps. At the bottom of the steps, George was standing, looking charming but nervous as hell. When he saw her coming down the steps his eyes lit up and she knew that she'd been right about the outfit, she had been wearing this outfit in his dream too.

"Here, these are for you," George said, pulling a bouquet of broccoli from behind his back. Hermione's smile widened, just when she thought she'd never smiled so brightly in her life. She accepted the broccoli and his arm and headed out the front door with him.

"So where exactly are we going?" She asked him.

"Well at first I wanted to go to the place we went on our first dream date. You know that little sports bar where we watched the Quidditch match?" Hermione's face was blank and she gave a little shake of her head.

"I'm sorry, mine was different…" Hermione said, feeling a little disappointed. Her outfit was not necessarily suited for a sports bar…

"Well that's alright, because I changed my mind anyways. I heard about this little place, it's in London, but I've arranged a portkey. It's called the Raspberry Tearoom. Have you ever heard of it?" Hermione gave him her most winning smile.

"Yeah, I've heard of it," she replied. And with that, Hermione and George walked arm and arm down the walkway of the Burrow and into their future.

A/N: Wow, it's over. Over over over. How weird. Well, I hope some of you stuck it out till the end. Thank you so much all of you for your support and encouragement, especially during those times where I went weeks and months without updating. You have all been such darlings and I adore you all. I am starting a new story about the James and Lily (and some others) though it's set in Harry's time (he's sort of experiencing their lives, you see). It is called "Lily's Pensieve" and I'm posting the first chapter right after posting this one. I encourage you all to check it out. Thanks!


	22. Alternate Ending

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

A/N: While I was completely satisfied with the original ending, I understand that many of you were not. I fully believe that fanfiction is a cooperative effort between the readers and writers, for I never would have made it this far without the encouragement of you lovely readers. Thus, for those disappointed with the original, here is an alternative ending. Beware of immense amounts of fluff! Love you all and please check out my new story "Lily's Pensieve," thanks!

**Chapter 21: An Alternate Ending**

The day dawned bright and sunny and Hermione sat up in bed, stretching her arms high above her head. It was a perfect day for a wedding.

"I'm getting married today." She said out loud, barely believing it herself.

"I'm getting married today!" She squealed against, causing Sugar to jump a little, startled by Hermione's eratic behavior. Hermione jumped out of bed and rushed to the mirror to examine herself. She double-checked that no zits had strangely appeared in the night (none had, thank goodness) and then proceeded to jump around like a maniac.

"It's about time you're awake!" Exclaimed Grace as she tumbled out of the fireplace.

"Ugh, you little stalker. Were you watching my floo again?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Hermione, need I remind you that stalking is my _job_?" Grace said, sounding exasperatedly. "And I've only been watching it since 5:30, not the whole night or anything. But I've never known you to sleep so late."

"Why what time is it?" Hermione asked, suddenly alarmed, worried she'd overslept.

"Seven o'clock," Grace said. Hermione sighed. Seven hours to go. Why hadn't they planned a 9 am wedding? She wondered briefly. She could not wait seven whole hours. "What time is your mother arriving?"

"9:30" Hermione sighed, sitting on the bed then getting up and running to the closet where her dress was hanging and then sitting back on the bed.

"Well, I was going to suggest some coffee, but it seems like you have ample energy," Grace said with a smile. "Do you remember how calm and collected you were on your first date? It was me pacing a hole in the floor while you sat and read over some political press conference story."

"This is _different_ Grace, this is my _wedding_." Hermione insisted, trying not to bite her nails.

"I cannot believe you are getting married before me. I've been engaged for 2 years and here you are, dating George for, what, 9 months and you're already tying the knot? Holy cow, 9 months? You're not pregnant are you?"

"Grace, your logic never ceases to amaze me. Yes, I am in fact 9 months pregnant… with triplets," Hermione said dryly, pulling her pajama top tight to reveal her extremely flat stomach.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. But really, who would have imagined you'd get married before me?" Grace pointed out.

"Listen, it's not my fault you keep changing your mind about what color the flowers should be, what season it ought to be in, and whether or not to have Max's 6 brothers wear kilts and play the bagpipes." Hermione pointed out.

"Ok, point taken," Grace said as she went to work curling her hair into tendrils with a convenient little spell. In all honesty, Hermione and George had rushed things a bit. They just couldn't bear being apart more. The three extra months were necessary for the planning, though that only took a few weeks. It was mostly necessary for the lavender hydrangeas to blossom, actually.

Six hours and 45 minutes later, Hermione, Grace, Ginny, Mrs. Granger, and Mrs. Weasley were all gathered in Ginny's old room in the Burrow. Hermione and George were getting married in the garden, just as the rest of the Weasley children had. Ginny was rubbing Hermione's back encouragingly; Grace was giggling (that's what you get for breaking into the champagne a little early); and Mrs. Granger and Weasley were sniffling and clinging to each other, both mumbling about their babies and how they never imagined that either would be getting married. Someone cleared his throat in the doorway.

"Ready baby?" Mr. Granger asked, tears springing to his eyes at the sight of his beautiful only daughter in her wedding gown. Hermione nodded.

The mothers scurried down the steps in order to be escorted by the ushers up the aisle. Then, with quick hugs, Ginny and Grace headed down too, lavender hydrangeas in hand. That left Hermione and her father and they hugged each other a moment before they heard the Wedding March beginning on the organ.

As Hermione walked up the aisle, arm in arm with her father, she beamed at George. He was looking dashing in his tuxedo robes but she was not looking at his clothing, she was watching his eyes, his dimples, the brightening of his face when he smiled back at her, and she knew she was going to live happily ever after with him.

A/N: Well, I know this is quick, but this is just so all of you who really disliked the dream thing can imagine this is what happened. I just don't want any of you to walk afraid from it disappointed or anything! And now, this is really really The End (no more random additions, I promise!)


End file.
